Spear in Hand, Spear in Heart
by valyria
Summary: AU covering the events of the film. Spock and Nyota deal with the consequences of Nero's attack on Vulcan. Sequel to Winds Against a Star. Revised & Complete.
1. Chapter 1: Sarek

I've revised this story, mostly the early movie-based chapters. Thank you to the people who took the time to message me constructive criticism, advice and well-wishes and to those who reviewed it when I originally posted it.

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AN: This story is a sequel to winds against a star and has OCs – so I'd recommend reading that first. Although this is directly based upon the movie, it's quite AU.

Vulcan: Translations at the bottom for this chapter, most will be in-text however.

WARNINGS: Violence, a tiny bit of swearing and adult content.

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Prologue

**Sarek**

A part of him wanted to find the human woman standing before him lacking, but S'chn T'gai Sarek, son of Skonn, son of Solkar, of House Solkar, of the Clan of Surak detected no deficiency.

She was fluent in Vuhlkansu, her accent commendable for a human, she had displayed an appropriate level of familiarity with V'tosh diplomatic etiquette and T'Khasi itself. He had reviewed her diplomatic records and could only conclude that her choice as the new Terran Ambassador to Vulcan was indeed, quite logical.

He recalled her as a young woman serving the former Ambassador Shaefer. She had been his aide, or 'intern' as the Terran term went. However that had been around the time he had first met Amanda Grayson. (Which was 32 years, 8 months, 12 days, 4 hours and approximately 18 minutes ago by standard reckoning). He had paid little heed to other females in his vicinity during that time and as a mere aide she had been unimportant to his work. His memories of those past meetings with her, whilst eidetic, were focused upon Ambassador Shaefer.

She had greeted him warmly but with a reserve that spoke of long acquaintance with V'tosh. They exchanged the customary gifts, from him a fine V'tosh robe, from her a painted silk wall hanging. Both items were handmade. She commented admiringly of the robe and he in return observed that the scene depicted on the wall hanging was aesthetically pleasing.

Pleasantries of both T'Khasi and Earth thus observed, they conducted their first meeting without further interruption. Ambassador Uhura had been well briefed by former Ambassador Shaefer before his retirement and Sarek was not required to elaborate or explain any of the current levels of diplomatic interaction occurring between their two planets. The meeting was satisfactory. His schedule was not affected by an over-long introductory interview.

She made no mention of any personal matters and Sarek was actually hoping that such conversation could be avoided entirely until she bade him wait a moment as he made his farewells.

He was aware of his assistants' absolute attention. It was known that that his son had bonded to the Ambassador's daughter. The Ambassador's _human _daughter. An inappropriate reference to this personal connection was to be expected from what Sarek had learnt of his wife's race over several decades. He kept his face utterly still of course, prepared to show no reaction to the Ambassador's incoming miss-step in V'tosh etiquette.

The human Ambassador retrieved a box - a gift box in the terran style tied with a ribbon.

'_A small gift for your wife – something from our homeworld - honoured Ambassador Sarek.'_ Ambassador Uhura explained in Vuhlkansu.

To Sarek's gratification she did not elaborate further or refer directly to a personal association and rather than passing the item to him, she offered it to his most junior assistant. Her adherence to correct protocol was a pleasing surprise. Most Terrans would observe the basics but inevitably slip into more casual human customs.

She did not wait for an expression of gratitude for her gift, simply raised her hand into the_ ta'al_ and inclined her head slightly in parting. _'Peace and long life Ambassador.'_

Sarek echoed the sentiment and left the Terran Embassy. He was pleased that the new Ambassador appeared well suited to her position and would not be an immediate cause of further intrigue and scandal to his family. It was a small reprieve, though a welcome one.

Amanda's reaction to the gifts was unexpected. She had the wall hanging taken into the library at once. One of the walls was bare, hooks already in place to hang it. It took two of the house servants less than a standard minute to mount the hanging. The colours of it matched the décor of the room.

'Oh it's perfect! Tamu has _wonderful _taste.' Amanda exclaimed in pleasure.

The hanging did indeed suit the décor of the room. Suspiciously so. 'You discussed this with Ambassador Uhura?' Sarek asked letting disbelief and disapproval tone his words slightly.

His wife gave a little shrug. One of several human gestures that had stuck with her despite decades living on T'Khasi. 'It may have come up once or twice in conversation.' she replied airily.

Sarek let himself frown to emphasise his displeasure for his human wife. 'You _selected _the customary gift I would receive as Ambassador?'

Amanda gave him a smile. _'No._ I merely mentioned that you had previously admired hangings such as this as superior examples of Terran craft.' She paused. 'Just as when _you _subtly asked my opinion on your gift for the Ambassador I mentioned how she had admired Spock's robes.' She gave him an arch look. 'Would you have preferred another vase?'

Sarek was forced to admit that he had indeed sort her counsel with regards to Ambassador Uhura's gift and that the hanging _was _preferable to a vase. He did not vocalise the thoughts however. Amanda could, of course, feel his general mood on the subject through their bond.

She gave him a type of smile he had long ago identified as 'smug'.

A servant bought forth the second gift, the box especially for his wife. Judging from her reaction this was not a further arrangement between the two human women. Amanda carefully undid the ribbon and made an appreciative gasp when the content was revealed. Sarek joined her at the table to see what the box contained.

He raised an eyebrow.

It was a bottle of terran wine. His wife's reaction seemed at odds with such a commonplace item.

'_Château d'Yquem Sauternes_!' Amanda exclaimed in transparent pleasure. She picked up the glass bottle full of a deep golden coloured wine and inspected it. 'I haven't had this since my 21st birthday.' she remarked. 'My father bought a bottle to have with my cake.' She smiled at what Sarek assumed were pleasant memories of family. 'I'll have to save it for a special occasion.'

'If you are fond of this terran wine _adun'a_, simply purchase more of it.' It was illogical and a waste of resources and energy to import such an item across 15 Lightyears of space, but Sarek had, over the decades, developed a distinct blind spot where his wife's happiness was involved.

'Oh no Sarek I _couldn't. _That would be such a waste.' Her reasonable answer both pleased and disappointed him, the idea of providing her something which would bring her pleasure conflicting with the illogical nature of the item in question.

'Tamu's mother is French you know.' Amanda remarked conversationally in reference to the wine. Sarek knew she was using the Ambassador's personal name on purpose. He was uncertain if she was attempting to unsettle him or acclimatise him. Both most likely.

'I was unaware.' he replied evenly.

'Well that's the sort of thing you _ought_ to be aware of Sarek.' his wife admonished him gently.

'I have reviewed the Ambassador's Diplomatic dossier. I see no reason I would require personal information beyond that which was provided.'

Amanda sighed. 'I have invited her to lunch on stardate 2258.12.' At Sarek's silence she continued. 'I have not specified if you will be present, since I was uncertain as to your… commitments.' Sarek offered no enlightenment as to that uncertainty. 'Captain Uhura will be accompanying her.'

Sarek inhaled sharply at the mention of the Ambassador's husband. His name was Zuberi. He noted his wife did not refer to him by it - she was obviously not as familiar with him as she was with his wife. He was a career Starfleet Officer. As it had always been for the last 9.7 years, talk of Starfleet tested his emotional control. Had his son accepted his place at S_hi'Oren t'Ek'Tallar T'Khasi_ _(The Vulcan Science Academy) _as had been expected of him he would not find himself in his current unenviable position.

His marriage to Amanda had been considered harmless eccentricity at best, distasteful and illogical at worst.

Their son had been held to standards even the most gifted V'tosh child would have found challenging. Spock had proven to be a prodigiously intelligent and gifted child however. Save for the depth of his emotional attachment to his human mother, he had been an exceedingly satisfactory example of V'tosh youth. If he had allowed himself to feel such an emotion, Sarek would have been proud of his son's youthful achievements. He had hoped that through his continued success Spock would have provided irrefutable _logical_ proof to those V'tosh who still considered humans and the other races of the Federation to be lesser, primitive beings, that despite their differences, this was not so.

Instead Spock had seemingly proved them right.

His schooling and aptitude tests had demonstrated genius. For all his occasional bouts of human emotion, Spock was easily one of the greatest minds of his generation. The Science Academy Council had been forced to accept him, despite the fact that some considered it inappropriate owing to his partially human genetics. No non-Vulcan had ever been granted admission before. Spock would have been the first. Perhaps set a precedent amidst the insular V'tosh. Instead he had rejected his admission in a fit of pique over a dismissive reference to Amanda made by one of the Councillors. He had taken insult were none had been intended. Reacted _emotionally, _in impulsive anger, and abandoned his home world to live amongst humans.

Chosen Starfleet over the Science Academy.

Chosen Earth over T'Khasi.

Emotion over logic.

Sarek could have accepted Spock choosing a human path had he made that decision logically, but he had not. He had been raised V'tosh. He _was _V'tosh. Despite this he had allowed his base emotions, anger, pride and bitterness to control him. He had chosen Starfleet in a childish emotional fit of spite. Sarek could not condone such behaviour.

And now he had bonded to a human. Off-planet. Without the permission of his parents or _Maat Pid-kom (Clan Matriarch)._

The first Sarek had heard of it had been when the healer T'Sul had validated full _kal'i'farr_ before the High Council. As the son of a S'haile Spock was a person of interest on T'Khasi. The fact that he was half human also made him a novelty to many. As such his marriage had been a subject of interest amidst the High Council and quickly spread through the High Clans.

There had been much speculation, much of it distasteful. Although he made no effort to follow the rumours, Sarek was aware of theories that the human girl had been impregnated (which would require gene manipulation and was _entirely_ illogical) or that Spock had been forced to take a human wife in the midst of his _time _because T'Pau could find no V'tosh woman that would have him.

The one positive about the situation was that it was known that he had sent T'Sul to Spock. It had therefore been assumed that Sarek had been aware of his son's intentions. That was far preferable than being thought to have been unaware. Except were his mother was concerned.

T'Pau was not pleased.

She would not speak of it. Refused to mention Spock by name. Sarek knew the only news she wished to hear with regards to her grandson was that he had broken his bond to 'the human female' as she put it. Until that statement was fact she would not discuss him at all. Her displeasure was common knowledge on T'Khasi. The discord in their Clan was a source of scandal and embarrassment.

Spock had left Sarek in an untenable position. It was his duty to his mother as _pid-kom_ to attempt to convince his son to sever his connection to the Uhura girl, however _her_ mother was the Terran Ambassador to Vulcan and he had another duty, that of his diplomatic position.

To act as T'Pau required would be detrimental to his work and could have diplomatic repercussions between the two most powerful planets in the federation. He could not allow his personal conflicts to affect his work thus. Not to mention the discord acting in such a manner would create in his own marriage. Amanda had made her opinion on the matter clear.

For the moment an uneasy status quo was the best he could make of his situation. He would behave in a manner that ensured the ongoing stability of diplomatic relations between Terra and T'Khasi, but he would not give his implicit approval to his son's ill-advised marriage.

He would either have to find a way for the marriage to be dissolved amicably, or somehow obtain T'Pau's approval.

Neither seemed likely.

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_Adun'a _- wife

_Kal'i'farr - M_arriage

_Maat _- Clan

_Pid-kom _- Matriarch

_S'haile _- Lord

_T'Khasi – _Vulcan, the planet.

_Vuhlkansu _– Vulcan language

_V'tosh –_ Vulcans, a term referring to the species.


	2. Chapter 2: Nyota

**Nyota**

Four and half weeks until she graduated.

31 days until she was a commissioned Lieutenant and off on her first fleet assignment.

Five weeks until the _Enterprise _officially launched.

35 days until she and Spock would be off to explore the galaxy aboard the flagship.

Nyota found herself ruminating on those countdowns in ever increasing excitement as the figures got smaller and smaller. That excitement had distracted her from her quiet study and her PADD sat forgotten in her lap. The material was familiar to her - the Vulcan/Andorian conflict over the planet Wehtahn - and didn't have much hold over her attention. She daydreamed instead.

She drew a three and then a five with her index finger. And then a smiley face.

The Vulcan she was leaning against raised an eyebrow and looked down at the arm she held in her lap.

Nyota smiled and continued to trace patterns against the charcoal grey of his uniform sleeve. Knowing he was watching she traced her name. Then drew a love heart. Then his name. She didn't need to look at him to know the eyebrow was still way up there. Squeezing his hand in her own she lifted his arm and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his wrist. She could feel his bemusement at her behaviour and it only made her happier. Confusing and teasing Spock was endlessly amusing.

She picked up her PADD from her lap and continued with her assigned readings for Interspecies Ethics. Realising she was done with her inexplicable human behaviour for the moment, Spock returned his attention to his own PADD. Ten minutes later Nyota stood and gathered her belongings to head to her next class. She put the tray that held the remnants of her lunch in the recycling unit before freshening up in Spock's bathroom. When she returned to the living room he was still seated on the couch, posture perfect, reading his PADD.

He didn't have a class to teach for another hour. She wished she could brush off her hand-to-hand combat class and stay beside him instead. Or, failing that, maybe Spock could take over her self-defence training. Learning _suss mahna _from him would be infinitely more enjoyable than sparring with her fellow cadets. Especially since according to stories Captain Pike had shared with her, on occasion he sparred without a shirt…

'It is now 21:53 hours Nyota.' Spock's even voice interrupted her musings. She realised she had been standing in the middle of the room staring at him. 'You will have insufficient time to reach H Block for your next class if you do not depart within the next thirty seconds.' He didn't look up from his PADD.

Nyota smiled at his tone but picked up her bag to leave. 'Thanks for the reminder Mr Metronome.'

He glanced up at her words, obliviously resisting the urge to point out their lack of logic. She could feel the general shape of them anyway through their bond. She could even imagine how he would word them. That he was not, in fact, a metronome and further more a metronome was device that kept a tempo as opposed to a device to measure time as implied by her statement.

To her surprise instead of voicing these sentiments, he put down his PADD and rose to stand beside her. His hands were warm as they loosely embraced her and pressed a kiss to her brow. Physical gestures of affection did not come naturally to him and Nyota therefore found his some what stilted attempts all the more endearing.

'Will you be dining at the cafeteria tonight my _adun'a_?' he inquired. They often shared meals, usually joined by Gaila. Irritating as her exuberant Orion roommate could be, she acted as an unofficial chaperone of sorts to help avoid suspicion. Nyota and Spock were supposed to be keeping their personal association private until her graduation. Gaila was one of few who was aware of it.

'Yes indeed_ adun._ I'll be in need of something deep fried after Lieutenant Sato's done with me.' Her combat instructor was a slave driver. 'I need you to teach me that fancy _tal-shaya _nerve pinch so I can skive off his classes.'

'As I have told you on five previous occasions Nyota, humans cannot perform that particular move as they lack both the strength required to apply necessary pressure to the nerve to induce paralysis and the ability to produce a telekinetic surge to render an individual unconsciousness.' Spock replied evenly.

Nyota sighed. 'I suppose there's no escape for me then. Sato it is. I'll see you later on,' Nyota stood on her toes to kiss him softly. 'Commander.' She let her voice drop suggestively on his rank and his left eyebrow twitched slightly.

He stepped back from her and offered her his right index and middle finger for a more Vulcan farewell. She mirrored the movement, pressed fingers against his. The sharp shape of his mind nudged against hers with comforting familiarity and affection for a few seconds, and then slipped away as he pulled his hand from hers and triggered his door.

She shot him one last decidedly unprofessional smile while she could and then stepped out the door to her next class.

'Enjoy your class Cadet.' he offered by way of farewell.

'Thank you sir.'

Her hand-to-hand combat class was sweaty and tiring, as she'd predicted. She quickly showered before her last class of the day, Subspace Engineering. The shower had perked her up a little but she was still tired from Sato's class and was glad her last period was just a tutorial as opposed to a lecture. Gaila was in her class and afterwards they headed to the cafeteria for dinner together.

It was quite early, only 17:45 hours and the dining hall was busy, but even without their bond tugging her towards him Nyota would have spotted Spock quickly. There were only a few instructors present and he stood out in grey against all the red. He was seated already, a large bowl of some sort of vegetarian stir-fry in front of him.

'_Commander Hot Pants will be joining us tonight will he Ny?' _Gaila inquired in her native Yrevish. Nyota sighed at her friend's favoured name for Spock.

'_Yes Gaila. Please try and refrain from doing anything humiliating for a change?' _she replied.

Gaila shrugged as they selected their meals. True to her word Nyota got herself something fried. A bowl of mixed tempura to be exact. It was mostly vegetables so it wasn't _that _unhealthy she told herself. Her room-mate picked one of her favoured incredibly spicy Orion dishes, something bright purple and soupy looking.

'_But you haven't heard the latest verse of your song!'_ Gaila continued. '_It took me hours to find a good rhyme for 'Orion'.'_

Nyota shot Gaila a look that very clearly communicated her feelings on the matter. _'Gaila, if you start up with that__** song**__ again, so help me I will shave your head while you are sleeping.'_

Gaila's eyes widened in shock. Nyota had long ago learnt the most successful threats against her were those against her vanity. 'You wouldn't!'

'Try me.' Nyota replied as they weaved between tables to where Spock was sitting. She took her usual place to his right and Gaila sat opposite them.

'Good Evening Commander.' Nyota said as she slid into her seat. She speared a piece of tempura hungrily.

'_Hellooooo_ _Siiir_.' Gaila offered far less respectfully as she took her own.

'Good Evening Cadets.' Spock responded evenly before proceeding to stun Nyota into silence. He turned his attention to Gaila and asked in Yrevish, _'You have composed an additional verse for your unusual Yrevish song based upon a highly fictionalised account of interactions between Nyota and myself?'_

Nyota inhaled a piece of deep fried zucchini and managed not to choke. barely.

Gaila look shocked, but in contrast to Nyota, shocked in _delight _as opposed to mortification.

'_Why yes Commander I have! Would you like to hear it?'_

Nyota looked from Spock to Gaila in horror. This couldn't be happening. Was Spock trying to be _funny? _Had he suddenly remembered he was half human?_ Why!?_

'_That would be acceptable Cadet.'_ Spock replied evenly, as if he and Gaila weren't discussing a semi-pornographic Orion…. _sea shanty_ about them.

In trilling Yrevish Gaila detailed the benefits of having a Vulcan to share body heat with in winter, with emphasis on the _how_ body heat might best be exchanged.

'Gaila!' Nyota hissed, kicking her room-mate under the table before she could reach a crescendo that sounded suspiciously like it would involve rhyming a crude term for parts of Spock's anatomy with the Yrevish word for 'cold'.

Her friend looked unrepentant. 'Hey! You didn't let me finish! And I have another verse.'

'I so _don't_ want to here it.' Nyota replied.

Gaila sniffed. 'The Commander can appreciate my _prose._' she proclaimed haughtily.

_'Does the next verse involve rhyming words for 'Spock'?' _Nyota asked suspiciously.

_'No.' _Gaila replied and took a deep breath before bursting into lilting, _terrible_, song once more.

It continued directly from the last. In it 'she' apparently offered to 'share' her 'warm Vulcan' with her 'sexy Orion friend' since she didn't have one of her own.

The students seated around them glanced at their table in interest. Although Nyota knew none of them spoke a word of Yrevish, hearing Gaila say such things, _out loud, in public, _could not be good for her stress levels. Nyota didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She settled for glaring at her room mate. Gaila was grinning, apparently very pleased with herself.

Spock was frowning infinitesimally. However he apparently found her mortification amusing enough to warrant his own discomfort at Gaila's inappropriate subject matter.

'Your verse shows improvement from your earlier attempts Cadet U'Aidat.' He commented mildly in standard, as if Gaila hadn't just more or less propositioned them via dirty Kolari limerick.

Nyota found herself giggling despite her anger. Spock and Gaila could not possibly be more ill-suited acquaintances, and yet somehow they managed to interact _almost _harmoniously.

Gaila grinned. 'Thanks Commander!'

Spock nodded and returned his attention to his meal, which he had smothered in spicy seasoning. Nyota worked through her tempura with more relish than she normally gave the Academy food, she was hungry after her afternoon's workout in Sato's class and her dinner, whilst limp, was satisfyingly greasy.

'I noted that you are both rostered on for tomorrow morning's Koyabashi Maru simulation.' Spock remarked.

Nyota glanced at him curiously, a piece of battered broccoli precariously speared on the end of her fork. Spock wouldn't have mentioned it unless there was something specific he wished to discuss. He did not mention things merely for the sake of conversation.

'Yes that's right,' she replied, 'although I didn't receive notification until this morning. Seems like a last minute thing.'

'It's Jim.' Gaila sighed with dreamy inflection, her hand under her chin, weird purple soup momentarily forgotten. Jim Kirk had affected the Orion more than was usual for her paramours. She'd been seeing him 'semi-exclusively' on and off for over a month. Apparently they'd even met up over the semester break while Nyota and Spock had been visiting her family in Nairobi. It was all highly unusual behaviour for Gaila.

'Affirmative. Cadet James Kirk is the command track student taking the test.' Spock confirmed for Nyota's benefit.

She rolled her eyes. 'A _third _attempt? He probably had to bribe Professor Langley for another shot at it.' she paused. 'And he's just going to fail again.'

'I believe the cadet did indeed exert influence via Captain Pike to obtain permission for the attempt.' Spock clarified. 'I must admit curiosity in the outcome. The Captain has expressed admiration for the cadet's tactical abilities and his previous attempt was quite... unique. However I estimate the chances of his successfully completing the simulation are less that 0.01%.'

'It's a no-won scenario. Everyone knows that.' Nyota said. 'Except for Kirk apparently.'

'Hey! Jim can be _quite brilliant _you know. He might just surprise you.' Gaila admonished.

'I'm not saying he's an idiot Gaila, I've had classes with him – he's smart – but he's impulsive and stubborn, not to mention _ridiculously_ narcissistic.'

'Oh he's _stubborn _alright,' Gaila agreed suggestively. She was stirring her soup absently. 'He just won't quit, he'll keep at something for _hours_ until he gets the job done...'

'Perhaps you should turn your creative energies with regards to your 'prose' towards James Kirk Cadet U'Aidat.' Spock suggested _almost_ wryly.

Nyota thought it was a _fabulous _idea. The less time Gaila had to make absurd rhymes about her sex life the better.

Gaila made an 'Ooh!' noise of excitement. 'That's a _wonderful _idea sir! What rhymes with Kirk? Work? Lurk? Spurt?' she frowned. 'No that's not right…'

'Perhaps 'Jim' might offer more possibilities.' Spock offered.

Apparently it did. A moment later Gaila burst into song. Loudly. In standard. 'Gaila knew a cadet named Jim, who was blessed with an extra limb, it hung down to his feet, but if he tucked it in neat, he could fill her right up to the -'

'Gaila!' Nyota practically yelled.

The students around them were definitely staring now. Gaila was unfazed, smiling at Nyota and Spock expectantly.

Nyota winced at the visual image. '_Ew._ Gaila.' was all she offered by way of review.

She glanced at Spock who looked mildly uncomfortable and quite confused. No doubt he was struggling with his tendency to take things literally. He was probably wondering if Kirk had a physical deformity. 'I hope you're happy Commander' she muttered quietly. 'I share a room with her you know. I'll be hearing about Kirk's 'extra limb' a whole lot from now on.'

Gaila gasped. 'Oooh! Maybe I could work him into _your song!'_ She swapped to her native tongue part way through her sentence. For all her innuendo, she did at least restrict her more blatant teasing to a language no one else would understand.

'_A love... square.' _she pondered out loud, her tone of voice and facial expression more suited to the contemplation of a difficult math problem then the subject matter at hand. '_Three naughty cadets and one sexy commander. One of them a handsome young human named Jim Kirk, desperate to pass the Koyabashi Maru, the other two - devastatingly attractive female cadets desperate for sexual gratification that only their mysterious Vulcan Commander can provide…'_

Nyota ignored her and turned her full attention to Spock. She crossed her arms. _'You did this. You encouraged her. Now listen to her.'_

'_I was merely attempting to express an interest in your friend's recreational pursuits as common human courtesy dictates.' _he replied succinctly. _'And it is my understanding that the composition of erotic prose is quite highly regarded on Orion. That Cadet U'Aidat has composed such compositions featuring us is a highly complimentary gesture according to her culture.'_

Nyota narrowed her eyes. What Spock had said was all true, but she had a strong suspicion he'd asked Gaila about her song to tease her rather than as a gesture of cultural sensitivity. He seemed to find the absurdity of it novel and mildly amusing as opposed to completely mortifying like she did.

Gaila was already composing verse featuring Kirk it seemed. ''_Oh Commander', said Jim, 'I'll do anything to pass! I'll even let you come in my -'_

'_Gaila!'_ Nyota interrupted her _again._

The Orion collapsed into giggles across the table.

Spock was frowning slightly, trying to figure out the context of Gaila's lyrics. Nyota didn't think he'd realised that the 'erotic prose' involving Kirk would also feature him. It seemed his supposed cultural sensitivity had already come back to bite him on the ass (or in this case Jim Kirk's) so to speak.

She shook her head. She wasn't going to get further involved. If Spock wanted to encourage Gaila's 'wit' that was his own funeral. 'I'm going to head to the long-range sensor lab.' She glanced at her room-mate, 'I won't be back till late.'

She let her leg brush against Spock's as she stood with her tray. 'I might see you at Cadet Kirk's test tomorrow morning sir?'

He looked up at her as he replied. 'I expect Professor Langley will indeed request my presence.' Spock was usually asked to observe Koyabashi Maru simulations owing to the fact that he was responsible for their programming.

Nyota nodded in response and bid him farewell in Vulcan. '_Rom-halan Spock.'_

He met her eyes briefly and returned the sentiment in her own native tongue. '_Kwaheri Nyota.'_

Hearing him speak Swahili, even such a simple phrase, gave her a silly warm feeling inside. She smiled at him briefly before turning to leave, exchanging a wave with Gaila who was frowning in thought and muttering under her breath. No doubt composing more terrible 'poetry'.

Nyota spent a satisfying evening in the lab scanning transmissions from Klingon space. There was a lot of unusual chatter going on. Much of it she couldn't decipher - the encryptions they used were unbroken by the Federation - but at 23:00 hours there was a series of hurried distress calls from one of the prison planets that had been only partially encrypted, and with an older code at that.

She spent the best part of an hour painstakingly deciphering and then translating the transmission. The content was very unusual. An entire armada, 47 ships, had apparently been destroyed during a prisoner escape. Nyota double and then triple checked her decryption and translation. It was accurate. The Klingons reported 47 War birds taken out by _one _Romulan ship. One _massive _Romulan ship.

She couldn't imagine the sort of force that would be necessary to defeat that kind of Klingon fleet single-handedly. No ship she knew of had that kind of power, federation or otherwise. She imagined Starfleet Intelligence would be looking into the report with great interest. No doubt they'd had it translated almost instantly.

It was 23:52, well past curfew and she could feel from their bond that Spock was mediating. She wanted to tell him about her interesting discovery but it would have to wait until the morning.

Still, Gaila would most likely still be awake.

Nyota headed back to their dorm only to discover Jim Kirk hiding under Gaila's bed. He _still_ had the nerve to hit on her.

_Ass._


	3. Chapter 3: Zuberi

AN: We will be back to Spock/Nyota POVs after this.

Also - there is dialogue from the movie towards the end which obviously, I didn't write.

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**Zuberi**

Vulcan was more or less how Zuberi Uhura recalled it. Despite their flowing forms, the sandy tones of the buildings of Shi'Kahr made them seem almost like stalagmites that had grown out of the rocky cliffs and outcroppings throughout the city. The Capital itself was quite lovely, the lines of the buildings and views unspoilt by the signage and advertising encountered on most worlds.

There was a distinct lack of greenery that to a human was disconcerting, but the muted reds and yellows of the landscape held their own appeal. Mount Seleya was visible in the distance, its distinctive silhouette forming a striking backdrop with the curve of Vulcan's sister planet T'Khut hung gracefully in the sky above.

Admittedly it was hot and dry but nothing a boy born in Kenya couldn't handle. The gravity was tiring however, and the thin atmosphere meant Zuberi had to be careful not to overexert himself. Tamu rested a hand on his arm as they followed a servant in muted brown robes along a path lined with statutory towards the large low building before them. It was approaching midday on Vulcan and the sun beat down mercilessly on their backs.

He gave his wife a brief glance, checking she was coping with the heat, gravity and atmosphere, but Tamu had spent several years living on Vulcan early in her career and appeared to have adapted easier than he to her new environment. She squeezed his arm reassuringly in response to his regard.

The doors opened and the servant gestured for them to enter with a graceful motion of his arm.

Zuberi allowed himself a slow blink of relief as a blast of chilled air met him at the threshold. It appeared that unlike many of the residences and buildings in Shi'Kahr, Ambassador Sarek's household made good use of their climate controls. No doubt in deference to Amanda.

The woman in question appeared from an adjoining room.

She looked just as she had over comm calls, though perhaps smaller than Zuberi had expected. She was of average height for a human woman, but her frame was tiny and doll-like, emphasised by her dark corseted Vulcan dress and the scarf that covered her hair. Her face split into a wide smile as she crossed the room to greet them. She was still very beautiful despite approaching her middle years.

'Tamu! Zuberi! It's wonderful to finally meet you in person!'

Tamu let go of his arm and crossed the foyer to meet Amanda in the middle for a brief hug and an exchange of cheek kisses. Zuberi stepped forwards and smiled in greeting as Amanda stepped out of Tamu's arms to greet him. 'Lady Amanda. The feeling's mutual.'

Spock's mother waved a hand. 'Oh don't 'Lady' me or I'll 'Captain' you.' She stepped forwards and gave him a brief hug before she joined arms with both himself and Tamu. She was surprisingly demonstrative for a woman who'd lived on Vulcan for thirty years. Or perhaps she was making up for lost time.

'Now! I haven't had humans over in _forever_ so I think _I'm _looking forward to lunch more than you.' She smiled brightly. 'Since Sarek won't be joining us I made roast lamb.'

Zuberi's interest perked. He'd been expecting spicy vegetarian Vulcan fare. Not that he disliked Vulcan cooking, but a real home-cooked roast was much more his style.

'And I've tried my hand at that recipe of your mother's Tamu, the cake you said Spock liked. I'm not sure how it turned out, I haven't had much practice baking in the last well, thirty years or so.' Amanda continued wryly. 'Vulcans aren't big on cakes. Sadly.'

'I'm sure it will be lovely Amanda.' Tamu replied as they wandered down a long cool corridor.

Zuberi looked around him with interest. There were long windows evenly spaced along the hallway each with a spectacular view of the seeming wilderness of Shi'Kahr. Mount Seleya and Vulcan's Forge was visible in the distance. The walls, like the rest of the house, were dressed stone decorated with elaborate carvings and long scenes in relief. Amanda paused, dropped his arm and triggered a door. 'Oh Tamu, I just want to quickly show you the library.'

Zuberi followed the women into a wide room lined with bookshelves containing ancient looking books, scrolls and other documents. On the wall opposite hung the Japanese painted silk wall hanging Tamu had selected to give to Sarek. It was a scene featuring a twisting cypress tree, two cranes in elaborate detail in the foreground and a snow-capped mountain in the background. It echoed the view of Mount Seleya that Zuberi had just admired through the windows. Despite the 'alien' nature of the hanging, the muted greens and browns fitted in with the restrained Vulcan décor of the room quite well.

'Oh it fits perfectly Amanda.' Tamu remarked. 'And it does seem to mesh surprisingly well.'

'Yes Sarek was quite pleased. Though of course he was _scandalised_ when he realised I'd basically told you what to get him.' Amanda replied. 'I half expected a lecture on taking inappropriate advantage of my position, but he managed to restrain himself. Barely.'

His wife laughed. 'It's strange to hear you speak of Ambassador Sarek in such a way. He is always so perfectly polite in our dealings, never a hint of the humour Spock sometimes shows.'

Amanda sighed and led them once more from the library. 'He is in a difficult position. Lady T'Pau is deeply offended that Spock did not seek her approval before bonding. She is placing pressure on Sarek. He feels caught between his duty to her, his position as Ambassador and his own opinions.' She paused. 'I suppose we should discuss this, but let us wait till after we eat. I'm not at my best when I'm hungry and Sarek and T'Pau's actions have not been pleasing to me of late.'

Zuberi attempted to lighten the mood. 'Ah. Having spent much time alone in a house filled with women, I can say with confidence that there are few things in the galaxy as frightening as a hungry one.'

Amanda smiled and his wife rolled her eyes.

Lunch was delicious and Zuberi told their hostess as much. Afterwards they shared the bottle of dessert wine that Tamu had given Amanda with the cake she had made. Zuberi was quite enjoying himself. Spending the afternoon with pleasant company, good food and nice wine in an exotic alien locale was the perfect way to spend his rec time.

'Well I think you did well considering you had to replicate some of the ingredients.' His wife remarked in assessment of Amanda's attempt at Delphine's signature cake. She met Zuberi's eyes before continuing. 'I can make us this version when you are in Shi'Kahr with me Zuberi.'

'That sounds good Tamu. I wouldn't mind if you cooked Amanda's lamb either.' he replied. 'Those Vulcan herbs and vegetables went with it nicely.'

'Oh obtaining terran meat in Shi'Kahr is nearly impossible. I wouldn't bother to be honest. Vulcan seafood is your best option.' Amanda said.

Zuberi's comm unit went off. He excused himself and stood to respond to it at a polite distance from the two women.

He thumbed the device open. 'Uhura here.'

_'Captain Uhura this is Starfleet Control at Vulcana Regar. All Starfleet personnel in system are ordered to report for duty at their designated posts.'_

Zuberi frowned. He didn't like to question orders but his curiosity won out. 'Understood. Can you offer any further information regarding those orders control?'

_'A heavily armed Romulan vessel has been reported in system sir.'_

'Copy that Control. I'm on Vulcan at the moment however.'

_'Report to either the Vulcana Regar or Shi'Kahr Spaceport for shuttle transfer. Control out.'_

Tamu and Amanda had fallen silent and were regarding him with mirrored wide-eyed interest.

'Sorry to dine and dash Amanda, but it appears I'm going to have to cut our afternoon short.' he said.

'Of course Zuberi, I'll call for a hovercar.' She stood and went to fetch a servant.

Tamu frowned. 'A Romulan ship? In the Vulcan system? Are they mad?'

There had been renewed tension of late between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire, specifically between the Romulans and Vulcans. An incident in the Neutral Zone had led to the public revelation that the two races were both descended from the pre-awakening Vulcans. Zuberi suspected that the upper reaches of their respective governments had been aware of the connection between the two races but kept it hidden. He didn't see how two such advanced cultures could _forget_ something as major as a planet-wide civil war resulting in the mass exodus and relocation of a large portion of the population.

There had long been theories about shared history between them owing to similarities of language, but the true extent had certainly come as news to the Federation at large if not to Vulcan High Command or the Romulan Senate.

Even disregarding the peace treaty the Romulans had broken in entering Federation space, about the last place in the galaxy that a Romulan ship was welcome right now was Vulcan. Things were... tense.

'Quite possibly.' he paused. 'If they are recalling all personnel in system it might be serious. You'll stay with Amanda until this blows over?'

His wife nodded.

Amanda returned. 'One of the servants is waiting to take you to the spaceport Zuberi.'

'Thank you Amanda, and thank you for lunch. Tamu and I will have to return the favour and have you over next time.'

She smiled. 'I'll look forward to it Zuberi.'

Tamu had risen to stand at his side. She gave him a kiss on the cheek in farewell. 'Send me a comm when you know what's going on darling. I'm sure Amanda is just as curious as I am.'

'Will do Tamu, although I'm sure it's nothing.' He smiled at both women in farewell then turned to head quickly for the front of the house.

The trip to central Shi'Kahr took 25 minutes. He did not receive further messages on his comm. At the Spaceport he joined seven other Starfleet personnel awaiting transport. None had further information than he. After a further twenty minutes had passed with no sign of a shuttle he attempted to raise Starfleet Control. He tried the headquarters in Vulcana Regar, the small orbiting space dock above Vulcan and the 40 Eridani A shipyard base itself – but to no avail. The other personnel present did likewise. It soon became apparent that all sub-space based communications were being blocked. He could not even contact Tamu.

As per regulations they remained in the Spaceport awaiting further instruction.

An hour had passed since he'd arrived when the first tremors began. At first Zuberi suspected an earthquake, but quickly established that a volcanic eruption was far more likely. You couldn't put your foot down without encountering volcanic activity of some sort on Vulcan. Mount Seleya itself was not entirely dormant and Vulcan's forge had several active calderas. He thought suddenly on Tamu and Amanda, of Mount Seleya as viewed from Ambassador Sarek's house. They were well within range of pyroclastic flows should Seleya or one of the caldera in Vulcan's Forge erupt. He actively dismissed the worry. Spock's family had lived in Shi'Kahr for many generations, he was sure the servants at Ambassador Sarek's house were well versed in the appropriate response to an eruption. Still. Amanda and Tamu were human - a race prone to panic and decidedly unsuited to the harsh Vulcan environment.

An ensign yelled and pointed to the sky, distracting him. Zuberi turned his face up over the horizon. Streaks of white light and dark smoke were criss-crossing the thin atmosphere of Vulcan as debris shot across the sky, burning up on entry. The Starfleet personnel exchanged meaningful looks. It was definitely no meteor shower. Such debris could only be caused by the destruction of orbiting ships, satellites or stations.

'Sir! Look!'

A man in a medical ensign's uniform was pointing out of a window on the opposite side of the lounge they were waiting in.

Zuberi joined him.

His breath caught in awe and terror.

He wasn't sure what they were looking at. It was like a pillar of fire reaching up towards the sky. He'd never seen anything like it. If it was a phaser beam, then it was on a scale he'd never seen, never even considered. The beam itself was massive. Thick. The _power _it must have been expending – he tried to think how large an anti-matter fusion reactor would be needed to power a phaser of such magnitude. He couldn't accurately get a grip on the scale in his mind. The joint power of 20 heavy-cruisers? 100? What he was seeing defied belief.

The planet was shaking as if it was going to tear itself apart. Looking at the awesome weapon, Zuberi feared it actually might.

Zuberi dismissed thoughts of natural volcanic eruption and coincidence. Communications were blocked it looked like ships were being blown apart above Vulcan. Combined with the sighting of a 'heavily armed' Romulan ship and the terrifying weapon being fired at the planet it was obvious that some sort of attack was being made against Vulcan.

He made a decision. 'Anyone here a pilot?'

Fifteen minutes later he had commandeered the most reliable looking Starfleet shuttle in the spaceport hanger and he and the Starfleet personnel present were making their way into orbit, orders be damned.

The rain of debris continued unabated, as did the disturbing seismic activity on the planet below them. Zuberi could see opening fissures and other disturbing signs volcanic activity centred in intensity around the throbbing beam of energy aimed at the surface. Dust had risen over parts of Shi'Kahr where buildings had collapsed. He wondered how many innocent were dead already and tried to steel himself for whatever awaited them above Vulcan.

Nothing in long years of service had prepared Zuberi Uhura for the sight that greeted them. He'd flown into Shi'Kahr by shuttle only two days previously for his first rostered period of down time in his new commission. It was difficult to accept that he was making the same journey. At any time the standard orbit of a major Federation planet like Vulcan would be quite crowded. Countless ships would be slowly making their way around the planet in carefully choreographed holding patterns, awaiting passengers, trade, or simply 'parked'. Other objects like Space stations and satellites, both scientific and commercial, would also be locked into their own orbiting patterns at different altitudes to the ships.

The sizeable flotilla of spaceships Zuberi had witnessed two days earlier – ranging from oversized commercial freighters and passenger-liners to small civilian craft - was gone.

Well, not gone, but torn to pieces.

They'd been reduced to a something like an asteroid belt clinging to the planet morbidly. Every now and then something burnt up in the atmosphere as its orbit degraded. The pilot used thrusters to navigate around a large hull section of what Zuberi thought was once Vulcan Science Vessel. He could make out part of the identifying glyphs painted upon it. _Fai-tukh_ _VSA-34-_ The hull ended in a ragged protrusion of twisted metal mid-way through the registry number. Their small shuttle manoeuvred past it and Zuberi dismissed the sad fate of the ship from his thoughts.

Their shuttle's rudimentary scanners indicated life forms survived in escape pods and wreckage around them, but there was nothing they could do for them. They didn't have the equipment. A rescue force on a massive scale was required.

The other Starfleet personnel with him were dismayed. Zuberi attempted to maintain a calm front for them. They were looking to him, as ranking officer, for both guidance and command. He thought through their capabilities and the possibilities available to them.

'We need to get away from this communication jam, whatever it is, and warn Starfleet in case they don't know. That weapon aimed at the surface needs to stopped and the survivors in the wreckage up here need to rescued.' There were murmurs of assent and instantly the mood aboard became calmer and more focused. Now that they knew what they were going to be doing, the men with him didn't seem fearful at all.

'Yes sir.' the lieutenant at the controls replied.

'Maximum impulse.' Zuberi instructed. 'Warp might attract the attention of whoever did this. Romulans have cloaking technology.' He left the obvious unsaid - there could be a Romulan armada surrounding them and they wouldn't know.

'Yes sir. Impulse only.' the pilot agreed. He began plotting a course.

'Don't make for the shipyard,' Zuberi added, '… it will have been targeted as well. Head further into the system, towards Delta Vega.'

'Very good sir.'

It took the pilot only a few seconds to plot a course and then the ship was threading its way through the debris field to put Vulcan behind it and 40 Eridani A ahead.

At first Zuberi thought it was the remains of the large space station that once orbited Vulcan, but his brain quickly recognised it wasn't remotely similar in design.

'Cut all power save life support!' he barked at the pilot.

The shuttle's engines were silenced and they drifted. Around him the other personnel stared at the alien ship in awe and fear.

'Is _that_ the Romulan ship?' one needlessly asked.

'It doesn't _look _Romulan.' another remarked.

'I don't see any birds or other Romulan markings painted on it.' someone else added more thoughtfully.

Zuberi looked at the ensign sitting at the tactical console. 'Ensign. Scan the area around the ship for life forms. Use the lowest power setting to avoid detection.'

The ensign worked at the console for a few seconds. 'Negative for life signs.'

'The debris field is just as thick here isn't it?' Zuberi inquired.

'Definitely Captain.' the pilot replied.

'Maintain this distance using minimum power.' Zuberi ordered the pilot.

'You think that ship's taking out survivors sir?' asked the ensign at the tactical console.

'That's the most logical conclusion.' He paused. 'Get comfy everyone. I think we're stuck here for the moment. We're going to have to wait for the cavalry.'

Twenty minutes later the cavalry arrived. A task force of 7 Starfleet heavy-cruisers, almost the entire earth based reserve fleet. Within a minute the debris field had increased exponentially. The weapons the Romulan ship had were formidable. Their shields hadn't been up and the Starfleet ships had been literally blown to pieces. Phaser and photon torpedoes had been fired, but they hadn't appeared to have any effect upon the Romulan ship. The 7 heavy-cruisers were reduced to burning hulks in a matter of seconds. Zuberi hadn't ever seen anything like it.

He tried very hard not to imagine all the Starfleet officers, possibly people he knew, that would have been on those ships. Those ships that had come from Space Station 1 in orbit of Earth above San Francisco. Where Nyota and Spock were. He tried to push that last thought from his mind but found himself unable to. He found himself peering at the hulks, trying to make out their registry details. He identified the _USS Hood, __Truman, Antares_ and _Farragut_ but he couldn't make out the other wrecks.

'Did you get a scan of those ships before they were destroyed Ensign?' he asked into the silence of the shuttle.

'Partial registry scan sir. I got 6 of the fleet before…' the Ensign let his voice tail off.

'Was NCC-1701 there?' Zuberi asked, dreading the answer. If the _Enterprise_ had been there Spock would have been aboard and very possibly Nyota as well.

'Not that I recorded sir.'

Suddenly Zuberi was sure that Spock was not dead. Intuition perhaps. He was certain the _Enterpise_ hadn't been one of the destroyed ships. He focused back on matters at hand.

It was apparent that the need to warn Starfleet was even more vital than he'd previously thought. If the Romulan ship was to be defeated, Starfleet would need to amass a fleet the size of which hadn't been needed in decades. Zuberi stared at the strange Romulan vessel. Perhaps _centuries._ He'd be willing to bet the _entire _fleet would be needed, every single ship. They would have to risk detection and attempt to leave and get word out.

Before Zuberi could order the pilot to start manoeuvring them away from the Romulan ship, another Starfleet heavy-cruiser warped into the graveyard that was Vulcan space. Zuberi recognised the gleaming white ship instantly. His heart gave a jerk.

'NCC-1701 sir!' the Ensign called. 'And their shields are up!' That was a good sign. The other ships hadn't had their shields up, they'd been taken by surprise. Perhaps some sort of warning had made it out of the system? Zuberi prayed it was so although the arrival of a single vessel implied otherwise.

The Ensign brought up a magnified view onto the shuttle viewscreen overlay. Zuberi felt his heart drop somewhere to the vicinity of his stomach as the familiar shape of the _USS Enterprise _filled it, shields flaring under attack. Spock and Nyota were on that ship. He knew it with the same certainty he'd known they weren't dead a minute earlier. He watched as their helmsman skilfully avoided several torpedoes and their shields took a pounding from the strange Romulan vessel before scrapping against a portion of one of the destroyed ships as they narrowly avoided a collision.

'That's the _Enterprise_ isn't it?' the pilot asked.

'Yeah, the new flagship. I didn't think it had even been launched yet…' the Ensign replied.

'It hasn't.' Zuberi remarked distractedly.

'You know someone on their sir?' the pilot asked quietly.

'My son-in-law and my youngest daughter.' The reply was automatic.

No one made further comment. No one felt the need to point out the danger the _Enterprise_ was in. Zuberi watched silently. He knew that the _Enterprise's_ shields wouldn't last more than a few minutes, not against the power of the behemoth Romulan ship. It was a parent's worst nightmare, the helplessness. He was going to have to watch his daughter die and Spock along with her.

'Sir! The Romulan vessel is communicating with the ship, on an unencrypted frequency!' the ensign at the console exclaimed.

'Bring it up!' Zuberi practically yelled.

The comm screen overlayed a small central section of the shuttle viewscreen. It was a Romulan alright, very similar in looks to a Vulcan save something different about his nose and forehead. He didn't look at Zuberi had expected however, he had strange tattoos and he most definitely wasn't in a uniform. From what he knew of Romulan culture, that was unexpected. They were highly militaristic like the Klingons. Uniforms were a given. He introduced himself and then the view split to show the bridge of the Enterprise as Captain Pike replied to his hail.

'_I do not speak for the Empire. We stand apart. Like your Vulcan crew member. Isn't that right, Spock?'_

Zuberi felt a wave of relief as he recognised Spock coming to stand beside Captain Pike and a tall slim figure in red peered around a tactical display behind him - unmistakably his daughter. His relief was short lived however. The _Enterprise_ was the last place he wanted any member of his family. It would have been far better if he hadn't just seen them on the bridge.

'_Pardon me. I do not believe that you and I are acquainted.'_ Even in the face of such hostility Spock was as perfectly polite as ever. Zuberi felt like rolling his eyes. Almost.

'_We're not. Not yet.'_ The Romulan Captain replied cryptically before continuing. _'Spock, there's something I'd like you to see.'_ He paused before addressing the Captain once more. '_Captain Pike, your transporter has been disabled. As you can see by the rest of your armada you have no choice - you will man a shuttle and come aboard the Narada for negotiations. That is all.'_

The comm overlay vanished with the end of the transmission.

Zuberi sat heavily down heavily in the nearest jump seat and tried in vain to think of some way to do _something._


	4. Chapter 4: Spock

AN:

More dialogue from the film which I didn't write.

It starts getting AU here, but I've tried not to go too crazy. I was pretty conflicted about how AU to go re: vulcan, hopefully it works.

One other thing - I haven't written Chekov's accent. I tried it, but then I had to give scotty a scottish accent, and McCoy a southern one and it just got. really. bad.

* * *

**Spock**

Following Captain Pike's unexpected and highly illogical field promotion of James T. Kirk to First Officer, Spock returned to the bridge and attempted to fully assess the situation the _Enterprise_ was in so he would be able to perform his duties as commander to the best of his abilities. His first action was to contact the Chief Medical Officer to ascertain the status of the ship's personnel. They were running on a skeleton crew and an untried one consisting of cadets at that. Any losses would significantly impact the ship's ability to function within acceptable parameters.

The voice that echoed out of his console was not the one he expected.

'_It's McCoy - Doctor Puri was on deck 6. He's dead.'_ Spock contemplated regulations and correct procedure given the situation before responding. It appeared yet another field promotion was about to occur.

'Then you have just inherited his responsibility as Chief Medical Officer.' he informed the doctor.

'_Yeah, tell me something I don't know.'_ Doctor McCoy replied. Spock ignored his unprofessional tone. It was apparent he was in the midst of a stressful situation in the medical bay. He resolved to allow the man a few minutes to get his division in order before requesting a report from him.

'Commander! Sorry, _Captain._' Ensign Chekov called. 'There is another shuttle approaching the shuttle bay.'

'One of ours?' Spock inquired. Life sign readings had been detected scattered about the debris field on the long range scanners. It was highly unlikely that an entire shuttle could have avoided detection by the the strange Romulan vessel, but not impossible.

'Affirmative Captain.'

'On screen.'

The small ship that filled the screen was indeed a standard warp-capable Starfleet shuttle. Rather than a starship auxiliary craft off one of the destroyed heavy-cruisers, it was of the larger type Spock knew was used to transport personnel between Vulcan and the nearby Shipyards. It was running under minimal thruster power only, a controlled drift with even its running lights offline. Given the trajectory of its approach it was obscured by the _Enterprise_ and would not be visible to the Romulan ship. Under such low power levels its presence would be lost amid the radiation and other energy fluctuations of the wreckage around them and would be difficult to detect via long range sensors. It was likely that the Romulans were unaware that it was a manned flight as opposed to merely more drifting wreckage.

He addressed Ensign Chekov 'Run a full scan of the shuttle.'

'Yes sir.' There was only a pause of 2.4 seconds before the young Russian spoke again. 'Sensors report 8 lifeforms - all humanoid sir, standard energy readings for a shuttle of that class, and the registration transponder checks out as a shuttle registered to the Shi'Kahr spaceport'

Spock had a sudden inkling as to who was on the shuttle. He was aware that his father-in-law was alive, the tiny tendril that had connected their minds since he had briefly melded with him in Nairobi remained intact. He had shared as much with Nyota, but he knew she remained exceedingly concerned although she was restraining her emotional distress admirably to focus upon her duties. He reached along that minute thread now. It wasn't a bond, he couldn't get a clear sense of Zuberi Uhura in the manner of his parents, Nyota or even to a lesser extent his grandmother T'Pau, but he made an attempt at any rate.

He wasn't sure what he felt, if he was really 'feeling' anything, but he got the sense that his father-in-law was nearby. He regarded the shuttle on screen for a period of 3 seconds.

'Grant the shuttle clearance Ensign. When Captain Pike's shuttle departs allow it to dock if it makes an approach.' He paused, assessing the risk if his... intuition? _hunch? _should prove incorrect. 'And assign a security team to the shuttle deck to receive them and report back to the bridge.'

Spock noted a few of the bridge crew turning to regard him curiously at his order but he ignored them. He had more important matters to focus on. The Captain's shuttle departed and within 2 standard minutes he was listening to Ensign Chekov's report on Kirk, Sulu and Olsen's statuses as they plummeted towards the surface of his home-world whilst Christopher Pike made his way most likely to his death aboard the _Narada_. The thought was distressing. Spock consciously compartmentalised it to consider later when he was at leisure to feel concern for his friend. There was nothing he could do for Christopher Pike now except perform to the best of his abilities.

He felt a sudden wave of emotion from Nyota at the communications console. He looked up to meet her gaze across the bridge. 'Captain, the unidentified shuttle has landed in the shuttle bay. It was carrying several Starfleet personnel.' Her tone was steady but Spock could tell that her father had indeed been one of those on board.

'Have them report to their respective department chiefs for emergency duty Lieutenant. We are short crewed.' he instructed her.

'Yes sir.' she replied.

Spock returned his attention to Chekov's updates on Kirk, Sulu and Olsen.

'O-Olsen is _gone_ sir!' the young ensign reported in shock.

Spock had not been overly familiar with Lieutenant Olsen, but he regretted the loss of the ship's Chief Engineer. They had few experienced officers aboard. As it was they already had untried replacements as Chief Medical Officer, Chief Communications Officer and First Officer. Even he himself was untried in command. The majority of his career had been spent at the Academy in San Francisco. He had lead away teams for Captain Pike during their service together, but he had never had command of a ship in a combat situation. If they lost Lieutenant Sulu he was not eager to consider who would take his place at the helm. A cadet who'd never flown anything bigger than a training shuttle most likely. He hoped the Lieutenant proved more skilled in staying alive than Olsen had.

Spock listened carefully as Chekov monitored the two remaining men of the away team. Even without the charges Olsen had carried, they would most likely still be able to sabotage the platform in a more rudimentary fashion. Kirk had displayed a certain creativity for causing destruction.

22 seconds after Olsen's death Chekov spoke again, this time with relief. 'Kirk has landed sir!'

Spock didn't bother to acknowledge the Ensign's statement - the young human was already turning back to his console at any rate - instead he tensely awaited news of the remaining man, Lieutenant Sulu. It was imperative that they succeed in restoring communications, even if it was only for a short period. It would perhaps even be worth the sacrificing the ship itself if it meant warning Starfleet about the situation above Vulcan. However Spock could not accurately determine that until he knew exactly what the purpose of the huge Romulan ship - the _Narada_ – was.

What did Captain Nero wish to show him? What was the strange beam _doing _to Vulcan?

Distantly Spock heard the sound of the turbolift cycling onto the bridge but he disregarded the noise until he felt an immense wave of relief from Nyota 1.2 seconds later. He turned slightly in his chair and was unsurprised to see Zuberi Uhura striding across the bridge towards him. He was wearing a golden Captain's uniform, although it was looking slightly dusty and worse for wear. It had only been 29.3 standard days since he and Nyota had departed Nairobi and he'd last seen the man, yet it appeared he had forgotten how _large _he was in that short intervening period. The bridge facilities seemed oddly out of scale in comparison.

'Spock!' His tall father-in-law boomed in obvious pleasure. He glanced around the bridge in interest, most likely comparing the functioning bridge to how it had looked mid-construction when he'd last seen it.

'I knew you'd turn up eventually. Insane Romulan terrorists are right up your alley.' he continued in typically odd human fashion. 'No doubt you'll end up with another medal and out rank me again before the day's out.'

Spock raised an eyebrow as the bridge crew turned with great interest to stare at the new arrival. 'Zuberi.' he replied mildly with the same level of familiarity. 'Your human jests are as mystifying as ever. I am gratified that you are clearly unharmed.'

'Feeling's mutual my friend.' He glanced at Nyota's back at the communications console briefly before continuing, 'Wish you hadn't dragged my daughter into a war zone however, but I suppose she insisted.'

Nyota turned to shoot her father a look Spock didn't quite understand. A mix of affection, irritation, frustration and amusement. Humans were a contrary species.

'Lieutenant Uhura did indeed make her thoughts on the matter quite clear.' Spock replied recalling their 'discussion' after he assigned her to the _USS Farragut_. He was careful not to think to much on that. Had Nyota not insisted upon a post aboard the _Enterprise... _Spock carefully snipped the thought before it could reach its logical conclusion.

Dismissing his daughter from his attention, Zuberi's voice deepened with seriousness. 'Now Spock - _Please_ tell me Starfleet knows what's going on here.' As he spoke he came to stand near Spock's chair. Although 'loom' was perhaps a more accurate description.

'You are well aware that Vulcans do not lie Zuberi.' Spock replied before offering clarification. 'Starfleet received reports of seismic activity from Vulcan High Command. They are unaware of the fate of the dispatched task force or presence of the Romulan ship.'

Captain Uhura muttered something decidedly undiplomatic about Romulans under his breath in Klingon. 'Well I can tell you that it feels like the planet is breaking up on the surface. I thought Mount Seleya was erupting from Shi'Kahr. Buildings had fallen in the city and I know they would have been designed to withstand significant seismic activity. Whatever the Romulans have planned it's serious. they must have caused massive damage to the planet by now.'

They had. And many deaths. Spock had been forced to dull his telepathic abilities since their arrival above Vulcan. He could feel the deaths on the planet below. He sensed them through the deepest part of his mind, a vague connection far below his familial bonds that linked him to his race as a whole. The _k'war'ma'khon_. Sporadically a great group would perish simultaneously and shock him. Hundreds or thousands would call out and be silenced as a building collapsing or a pyroclastic flow hit a town...

He focused back upon the conversation at hand. 'We have determined that the platform they lowered into the atmosphere is not only the source of the seismic activity, but also of the jamming frequency blocking our transporter beam and communications. We currently have a team working on disabling it.' he said.

'Good, hopefully there will still be some of Shi'Kahr still standing.' Zuberi replied.

The mention of Shi'Kahr was an unwelcome reminder of what he personally held at risk. His home was in Sh'Kahr. His mother, his father and grandmother would be there. They were all currently alive and unharmed, though he felt fear from his mother and even had a vague sense of Sarek and T'Pau's concern. A thought occurred to him. If Zuberi had been on Vulcan as he had indicated, he would have been with his wife, yet clearly she did not accompanied him.

'Is the Terran Ambassador in Shi'Kahr?' he inquired in reference to Tamu Uhura.

'I left her with Lady Amanda at Ambassador Sarek's.' Zuberi replied with a frown. 'Judging from what it was like down there an hour and half ago, it's the last place I'd like them to be.'

Spock was in agreement. They needed to find out what Nero was doing to the planet and stop it. _now._

Nyota's voice rang across the bridge even as she tugged at his attention through their bond. 'Captain - the jamming signal is gone. Transport abilities are re-established.'

Obviously Kirk and Sulu had been successful. He noted Nyota made no mention of communications however. Obviously they were still down. He was perfectly confident that she would re-establish them as quickly as possible however. She had already prepared emergency high frequency burst reports. The moment she was able too she would have Starfleet fully appraised of their situation.

'Transporter control is re-engaged sir.' Chekov confirmed.

'Chekov run gravitational sensors - I want to know what they are doing to the planet.' Spock ordered the ensign almost as soon as he'd finished speaking.

'Aye Commander –ah Captain, sorry Captain.' the ensign replied. Spock ignored his mistake. Around them the bridge erupted into a cacophony of noise as all the incidental systems the jammer had been affecting came back online.

From one console came Kirk's tense voice. 'Kirk to _Enterprise._ They just launched something at the planet, in the hole they just drilled. Do you copy _Enterprise?!'_ Spock processed his words but kept his focus on Ensign Chekov.

'Gravitational sensors are off the scale,' the Ensign said, '… if my calculations are correct, they are creating a singularity,' he paused and his voice softened in apparent emotional distress, '… that will consume the planet.'

The ensign's theory fit with the facts at hand, preposterous though such a thing seemed. Beside him Zuberi swore again. In Klingon.

'They are creating a black hole at the centre of Vulcan?' Spock felt the need to request clarification. For once he hoped he had misunderstood. He could feel Nyota's shock and dismay at his words, her reaction mirroring his quite accurately despite the disparity of their species.

'Yes sir.'

Spock found that his mind was, for once, utterly still. There was… nothing. Vulcan was about to be consumed by a blackhole. His parents, his family, his entire race would be extinguished. Consumed by nothingness. The Romulan's words echoed across his thoughts. _'Spock, there's something I would like you to see…'_

Why was he being singled out in such a manner? How had this 'Nero' known his name and that he would be aboard the _Enterprise? _Where did the ship come from? How could it create a singularity? What was the connection between Vulcan and the attack on the Kelvin? Questions and no answers.

He felt Zuberi's hand on his shoulder in a human gesture of reassurance. He did not feel reassured, but it did help jar him from his thoughts.

'How long does the planet have?' He was surprised at how calm he sounded.

The boy shrugged. 'Minutes sir… Minutes.'

Spock rose to his feet, his decision already made. He addressed Nyota as he made his way across the bridge. 'Alert Vulcan Command to signal a planet wide evacuation - all channels all frequencies -'

'Spock wait!' she called as he headed to the turbolift, Zuberi at his side.

He ignored her and addressed the relief helmsman, 'Maintain standard orbit.'

'Yes sir.' came the response.

'- where are you going?' Nyota finished as he entered the turbolift, Zuberi crowding the small space beside him.

'To evacuate the Vulcan High Council. They are tasked with protecting our cultural history. My parents will be among them.' Spock explained in a rush trying to maintain his equilibrium.

'And I left Tamu with Lady Amanda.' Zuberi added before his daughter could question his presence at Spock's side.

'Can't you beam them out?' she inquired even though she knew he would have already considered the option. Her eyes flicked from him to her father desperately. He could feel her intense distress through their bond, he was forced to tamp down upon it slightly so as to not be distracted.

'It is impossible. They will be in the Katric Ark. We must get them ourselves.' He raised his voice to call past her. 'Chekov you have the con!'

'Aye Sir!' the ensign replied.

Spock met Nyota's dark eyes and sent her a wave of his affection as the glass of the turbolift doors slid into place between them. Zuberi was silent, clearly lost in his own personal concerns. Spock did not want to know how he would have felt if he had left Nyota in the situation Zuberi had unknowingly left Tamu in. A brief thought of the _USS Farragut _flickered across his mind before he forced it down once more.

Spock led Zuberi towards the nearest Transport room. They were delayed for 28 seconds by the new Chief Medical Officer – Dr McCoy.

'Spock! Commander! Sir!' the evidently beleaguered man yelled.

Spock spun on his heel and replied impatiently. 'Speak'

The Doctor glanced at Zuberi. 'Captain?' he inquired curiously obviously wondering who Zuberi was and if he was now in command.

'Spit it out Lieutenant Commander!' Zuberi bellowed impatiently to Spock's mild gratification.

McCoy's eyes widened and he straightened unconsciously to attention. 'Yessir. Spitting it out sir.' He met Spock's eyes.'Medbay transporter is operational, request clearance to beam survivors within range aboard'

'Low energy settings only. Do not attract the Romulan's attention, I will leave the details to your discretion. I trust you will not endanger the crew by overextending our facilities.' Spock responded.

Zuberi had already started down the corridor once more and Spock turned and stretched his legs to catch up to the taller man.

'Will do sir!' The doctor yelled at his back.

They arrived at Transporter Room 2 to find Kirk and Sulu sprawled in a dirty panting tangle upon the pad and an out of breath and exuberant Chekov seated at the computer console. Owing to the doctor's delay the ensign he had left with the con had beaten them to their destination. Spock picked up a tricorder by force of habit from the rack near the doorway and attempted to calm his irritation.

'Clear the pad.' he said as he and Zuberi took up positions near the Kirk and Sulu who were still sprawled upon it. 'We are beaming to the surface.'

'The surface of what?' Kirk inquired belligerently. Spock ignored him and checked his phaser and tricorder were charged and operational. Another automatic habit. 'What - you're going down there? Are you _nuts_?' Kirk continued with his usual disregard for both common courtesy and the respect due a superior officer.

'Don't question your Captain crewman!' Zuberi barked. For the second time since leaving the bridge Spock took slight enjoyment at his father-in-law's decidedly human impatient outbursts.

Kirk looked at Zuberi in confusion. 'Who're you?' Taking in Zuberi's uniform and rank insignia he added, for him, quite respectfully, '... Sir?'

Spock crouched so that he would land with steady footing when he rematerialised on the surface and he saw Zuberi adopt a similar position out of the corner of his eye.

They both ignored Kirk.

'Spock you can't do this! Spock!' he yelled.

'Who_ is_ this kid Spock?' Zuberi inquired in disbelief.

Spock ignored both humans and made eye contact with Chekov at the controls. 'Energise!'

His last image of the _Enterprise_ was of James Kirk's red face and open mouth.

When his eyes refocussed he was in a nightmare.

He and Zuberi were on the surface of his home-world, some 68.2 kilometres from his home. Around them the rocky outcrops of Vulcan's forge were crumbling. Magma erupted from great fissures in the surface of the planet's crust. He didn't need to refer to his tricorder to know the planet was on the verge of destruction. High above them Mount Seleya was erupting for the first time in centuries. The sight was simultaneously the most magnificent and most horrifying thing he'd ever seen.

Zuberi pulled himself to his feet. _'Oh sweet lord.'_ he remarked in Swahili.

Had Spock believed in a deity he might well have made appeal to it also.

He started towards the steep steps carved into the cliff-face that led to the entrance to the Katric Ark at a run. Zuberi was able to keep pace with him purely because they were more climbing than running. The heat and thin atmosphere of Vulcan was worsened with ash and gases that had been released from deep within the planet's crust. He estimated it was perhaps 52˚c. Far beyond the comfort levels of a human. His mother and mother-in-law were undoubtedly finding it difficult to breathe. He hoped the air in the ark had remained purer.

He led Zuberi along the shaking and collapsing stone corridors towards the main chamber of the ark, the Hall of Ancient Thought, where he could sense his family through their bonds. His father, as usual, was muted, almost entirely cut-off from him, but he could clearly feel his mother's terror. Bits of stone pelted down on them from above and the air was heavy with dust. He raised an arm to protect his face as he entered the ark with its huge statues of Surak and his followers.

He felt intense relief when he saw her face, alive, standing beside his father. They were at the altar formed by the base of the great statue of Surak in the centre of the massive chamber. Clearly the Council were attempting to commune with Surak's katra. Most likely they intended to transfer it to one of the elders in the hopes of escape. Spock's eyes slid over the Vulcans present. To his mild surprise he felt a sense of relief at seeing his father's face that was nearly equal to that he'd felt at seeing his mother's.

Amanda sensed his presence before any of the Vulcans and she pushed herself to her feet, her eyes meeting his with great joy as he dashed up the steps towards her.

'Spock!' she called in a mix of shock and relief. Despite the circumstances, he did not think he had ever been so happy to hear her emotional human voice.

His father met his eyes with an expression Spock did not even attempt to decipher given the situation. T'Pau beside him didn't bother with such personal interactions, she simply waited.

Tamu Uhura, who had been standing next to his mother, ran forward at a sprint and into Zuberi's arms.

'Zuberi! Thank god!' she exclaimed with similar emotion to that his mother had just expressed at seeing him.

Spock wished he could express his own emotions - namely his relief at his mother's continued existence to her in a similar way, but instead quickly addressed the room at large. 'The planet has only seconds we must evacuate.'

His father and the elders exchanged looks but required no further encouragement to start towards the exit.

Spock reached out towards his mother, a human gesture he found he could not deny himself, and she quickly stepped around the altar to take his hand. He felt the reassuring warm brush her mind and sent her his overwhelming relief that she was unharmed along with his affection. Her fears calmed slightly at his unusually demonstrative touch. Being bonded to Nyota had made him more expressive perhaps. A slightly distasteful concept. He could not find it in himself to regret expressing his emotions to his mother however. Cool fingers clutched at his and sent back great waves of unconditional human love.

Spock turned and led her back towards the exit. The falling debris had intensified, the very ground shaking beneath their feet. He did not think the planet could have long. He extended his legs into a run that his mother would be able to match. There was a shift in the air and a booming crash behind them.

Spock felt a wave of shock and adrenaline from Zuberi. He spared Nyota's parents a glance over his shoulder. The great statues of Surak and his followers were collapsing, bringing the ark down with them. Many katras would be lost to true death, which was sorrowful, but it was illogical to mourn those already long dead when so many of the living were having their lives cut short across the planet.

Zuberi and Tamu were making their way around the cloud of dust surrounding a fallen colossus, but they were no longer holding onto each other. Zuberi had given T'Pau an arm to grasp and had the other around her shoulder so that he was half carrying the elderly woman and Tamu likewise had the even more ancient elder Sylok's arm firmly in her grasp. The two Vulcans were most likely scandalised at being touched in such a manner, but both Uhuras had gripped them over their robes and given that it appeared at least one of them had just been saved from being crushed by several tonnes of rock, he imagined a diplomatic incident would be avoided.

Spock dragged his mother into the rough tunnel and towards the triangle of yellow light ahead of them. Sarek was right behind them, an oddly comforting presence, and Spock could feel Zuberi following closely. Tamu screamed and the glance Spock gave her revealed his shocked mother-in-law with green blood on her arm and dress and elder Sylok presumably underneath the collapsed section of tunnel that had narrowly missed her. With some amazement Spock observed his father pause to grab the woman and pull her forward. Then the hot wind of the surface was on his face.

He pulled his comm off his belt and spoke rapidly into it. 'Spock to _Enterprise._ Get us out now!' He hoped Ensign Chekov was still at the transporter controls. If he'd been able to beam Kirk and Sulu from free fall, half dozen from the surface of an unstable planet would be well within his capabilities.

Around them Vulcan's Forge was disintegrating in a deafening maelstrom of shifting rock and larva. His mother's fear and awe beat at him through their bond. She stepped forwards, pulling at his hold upon her arm and starred in disbelief at the planet she had adopted as her home. Her dress and scarf whipped around her body in the hot wind.

Spock felt great waves of death from all over the planet. He tried to distance himself from the shock of it, but its scale was crushing.

Chekov's heavily accented standard echoed from his comm, the words barely audible over the noise of Vulcan disintegrating. '..locking volume, don't move stay right where you are!'

Zuberi appeared, panting, at Spock's side with Tamu and T'Pau. Tamu inserted herself at Spock's side, forcing Zuberi to step forward to give her room, and curled a slender dark hand not dissimilar to his wife's around his free arm. Spock did not begrudge her the touch. Even T'Pau looked almost fearful - his grandmother didn't look like she'd be letting go of her grip on Zuberi any time soon. Human or not, his large presence appeared to be reassuring her.

Spock glanced backwards over the group. His father stood slightly behind and to the side of him. Only elder Sylok had been lost. A boulder fell nearby and exploded against the cliff to their side, showering them in fragments. Time appeared to have slowed. They should have been beamed up already… But no… only 3.8 seconds had passed, not long enough for Chekov to lock onto them all. Spock calmed himself. His mother dropped his arm and took a small step forward. Spock thought about reached for her and taking her hand, but such a gesture did not come easily to him, especially in front of the elders.

He focused on the back of her head and not the horror of his home-world dying around them and the Vulcans he felt dying within him. Zuberi was craning his head, looking around in apparent disbelief. The cliff they stood on was fast becoming the only stable ground in sight. Spock felt the tell-tale tingle of the transporter beam and a quite logical corresponding sense of relief.

Chekov's voice reached him once more from the comm on his belt. 'Transport in 5, 4…'

His mother turned to face him once more, no longer able to bear looking at the hellish scene around them.

'3…'

Her eyes were wide with her extreme distress. He should take her hand, offer reassurance. He felt a shift beneath his feet.

'2..'

His arm came up, reaching towards her in sudden fear. He felt Zuberi shift to his side, saw movement out of the corner of his eye but dismissed it as he focused on his mother's face. She was too close to the edge, the cliff was collapsing, he needed to pull her back. His fingers met air. She was out of reach. He felt her sudden shock and fear as the ground beneath her gave way.

Spock heard himself yelling. '_Mother!_' pointlessly. Illogically.

Chekov was yelling.

He stared at her, time slowing as he leaned forward to try and grab hold of her as she fell. He could feel shock from his familial bonds. Then a massive hand twisted in her dress, the darkness of African skin contrasting starkly with the cloth. Zuberi had a much longer reach than him a distant part of Spock's brain informed him. He was exceedingly tall. 209 centimetres tall with correspondingly longer arms. Tamu clutched at his left arm at his side and let out a frightened gasp. Zuberi stumbled. The white glow of the transporter beam was clouding his vision.

Amidst the shock Spock felt a wave of resignation followed by determination that was not his own wash over his thoughts. He sensed movement as Zuberi threw himself down in counter-weight to his mother's falling body and then suddenly she was pressed against him. He grabbed her tightly as the white burn of the transporter beam took hold fully. He felt a great sense of success, or perhaps victory, and then his lungs burnt in agony as -

His thoughts broke, disassembled along with his physical body. He perceived the transport as a skip in time. Seconds that went missing.

- _pain._ _Burning._ His lungs were seared as the burning air melting his insides. Hair and uniform aflame. Panic. He hit something. a shock. Bones in his arm shattered but he didn't feel it, his thoughts were slowing, and it was familiar - he'd felt this before_ (or had he?)_ he was dying. - _yes dying please god let it end -_ He felt his skin blistering, his eyelids offered no protection to his eyes, they felt like red hot marbles in his skull, dry and burning like they might burst- _please let this end -_ But he was falling, still falling. Blind. deaf. The air around him was on fire. His blood was boiling -_deathdeathpleasegod-_ a shock, impact, jarring. not falling. breaking bones. breaking body. his heart stalling, breathing out. relief. -_ yes good it_-

Spock inhaled cold clean starship air. His thoughts re-ordered themselves, fell into the correct patterns. He was not injured he was not in pain. His mother was clutching to his uniform, her eyes wide and terrified.

_Relief._

His own? an echo of something?

His father stood to one side of him. T'Pau behind him. Tamu Uhura was still safely at his side, clutching his arm. He looked past her, to where Zuberi should have materialised, but he knew already that the transporter pad would remain empty.

The tiny connection to his father-in-law was gone.

He blinked. Stared at the empty pad.

Zuberi Uhura was dead.

_Falling. Burning._

Spock inhaled and calmed himself.

Tamu's grip on his arm tightened as she suddenly realised her husband was not with them. A soft, terrible wailing noise escaped her as she sunk to the transporter pad beside him in a pile of her skirts.

Spock did not know what to say or do - he was at war with himself. He knew _precisely _what had just occurred – he'd felt Zuberi in his last few moments, but it did not seem… real. The empty transporter pad did not seem enough to prove Zuberi was dead. He was just… gone.

He felt... guilt.

Nyota's father had made a conscious decision to save his mother at the cost of his own life. That had been the resignation and determination he'd sensed. Zuberi had used his own body as counter-weight to throw her back from the crumbling edge. Fallen to his death in her place. _why?_ Such a decision was illogical. Who was Amanda Grayson to he? It made no sense. Amanda had not been his responsibility. Zuberi could not have spent more than a few hours in her company. Spock didn't understand.

He found himself looking around the room as if for guidance. His father's face was a granite mask, as always. Kirk and Sulu were silent and regarding Tamu with awkward pity. Chekov sat staring at the computer as if he'd personally been the cause of Zuberi's death.

If Spock had kept his mother at his side, kept a _hold _on her, Zuberi's sacrifice would not have been necessary. His death was a result of his failure. What was he to say to Tamu? To _Nyota?_

Tamu was sobbing softly, her shoulders shaking.

Only 8.7 seconds had passed since he'd felt his feet beneath him once more. It felt like much longer.

His mother sunk to her knees beside the other human woman and wrapped her arms around her, ignoring the stoic Vulcans around them. Spock straightened and stood back. He could hear his mother making the 'shhhh' noise she had used to sooth him with as a child.

Spock turned to Chekov. 'Summon Lieutenant Uhura.'

He was uncertain of how the situation should be handled, but he was aware that his wife would want to know as soon as possible that her father was dead, and it seemed correct that she and Tamu should interact. Comfort each other.

Below them millions of Vulcans were dying. It was like a steady roar in the back of his mind. He tried to block it, to seal himself off from the _k'war'ma'khon. _It was impossible. He was of Vulcan and they are part of him.

It appeared his wife had already been on her way. He felt the tell-tale surge in their bond as she travelled down the ship on the turbolift before Chekov had even finished relaying his order to the bridge. She appeared in the doorway slightly out of breath.

Kirk and Sulu regarded her in confusion, but Chekov, who'd heard Zuberi refer to her as his daughter earlier on the bridge gave Nyota a look part pity, part guilt.

Spock was aware that the Vulcans present were staring at her in interest. Odd that four Vulcans she had never met should have such insight into what his wife was feeling at that moment whilst her fellow human crew members remained more or less oblivious.

Nyota's eyes skipped over his body searchingly and he felt her intense relief that he had returned alive and unharmed. He then felt that relief turn to shock and fathomless sorrow as she looked around the room and noted her father's absence and her mother's crying form. He felt her silent question through their bond. He let her feel his sorrow and guilt, that Zuberi was gone. That instant that Nyota realised her father was dead was terrible in its intensity.

'Lieutenant Uhura, I regret I must inform you of Captain Uhura's demise.' he said the words aloud so that her fellow crew members would be aware of her loss, could perhaps comfort her in the human fashion, or at the very least avoid upsetting her further through ignorance.

Nyota nodded. 'Yes sir.' Her voice was almost Vulcan in its lack of emotion. It sounded wrong.

Pain threatened to overwhelm her - a great mix of sorrow and rage that seemed to rob her of the ability to breathe properly. Almost as soon as it hit her however, Spock felt her trying to push aside her grief, stop the sting of tears forming in her eyes. She didn't have _time_ to mourn her father. She wanted to push the pain away until she did - until she was alone and they weren't in danger - when she didn't still have a job to do. And she was embarrassed. She didn't wish to cry in front of a room of virtual strangers.

Spock didn't know how to adequately comfort a human woman in mourning, but he was exceedingly well versed in suppressing his emotions. His wife wished to maintain at least the façade of calm. He could aid her in that manner at least. Spock took two steps forward and came to a halt in front of his wife. He offered her his index and middle finger in the _ozh'esta_.

The Vulcans present would be aware she was his bondmate and such the gesture not inappropriate and the humans unaware of its significance. Her fingers curled and sought his out automatically. The brush of her mind, usually so comforting, was almost painful. Spock fed her his calm, his acceptance. They would talk of Zuberi later, when they had time to mourn him as he deserved. Nyota drew on his strength and calm, her tears drying and her breath smoothing as she distanced herself from her sadness. He helped her compartmentalise it. Lock it away for later.

Calmed, she dropped her fingers and spoke softly in Vuhlkansu. _'Thank you adun.'_

Spock nodded then addressed her in standard. 'Lieutenant. Escort our guests to the medbay and then have staterooms made available to them.'

The order was both logical – she was familiar with V'tosh custom and language and therefore was the most suitable person to deal with the elders – and emotional - Nyota needed a task to perform and this would enable her to both do her job and remain with her mother.

'Yes Captain.' she replied out loud even as she silently thanked him through their bond for helping her keep her composure. She stepped around him to approach her mother and the elders, still standing on the transporter pad.

She placed a slender hand upon Tamu's shoulder. Her words were first in Swahili, _'Mama, it's okay. I'm here.'_ - and then standard, 'Ambassador Uhura, come, let me show you the medbay.'

Her words were soft and kindly spoken, but she'd used her mother's title to remind her of her own duty and give her something to focus her own composure upon.

Tamu sniffed and visibly calmed herself. Nyota and his mother helped her to her feet. Tamu dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of the long dress she wore and nodded in response to something his mother murmured quietly to her.

Nyota took her mother's arm then turned to address his father and the Vulcan elders in her perfect Vuhlkansu. _'Most honoured guests. If you will please follow me?'_

She did not wait for a reply, simply led the group from the transporter room.

Spock knew he should promptly return to the bridge but he found himself lingering as the last elder vanished into the corridor. The steady roar of death on Vulcan continued to build to a crescendo inside him. He felt numbed by the scale of it.

'I'm sorry Captain.' the young Russian at the transporter console intoned despondently.

Spock turned back to face Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov. It was apparent he blamed himself. Usually Spock would have left him to his illogical human assumptions, but he felt it his duty as Acting Captain to at least attempt to offer clarification and support. He was certain Captain Pike would have.

'Ensign. You performed admirably. Very few would have had the skill to beam up such a group under those circumstances. To assign blame to yourself for Captain Uhura's death would be illogical. Zuberi knowingly sacrificed his life for…' saying it out loud was difficult, he could not keep the slight tremor from his voice. '… for another.' His mother.

He glanced at Lieutenant Sulu and Acting First Officer Kirk. They appeared as drained and shocked as the ensign. It would be appropriate to offer them some words of support or encouragement. He sort an appropriate turn of phrase. Captain Pike would perhaps have slapped them on the shoulder and said 'Good Job!' or some such, but Spock did not feel comfortable with such a display. He followed Nyota's long ago advice with regards to reassuring humans and simply vocalised the obvious.

'As a direct result of your success in disabling the Romulan device, many Vulcans, including the High Council - will have escaped the destruction of the planet.' He imagined the number was very small unfortunately. He knew the planet had not yet been entirely consumed by the singularity, but he'd felt death on a mind numbing scale over the last ten minutes. He did not vocalise that obvious fact though - it would not be reassuring. Kirk and Sulu straightened slightly at his almost-praise. 'Change and report to medbay before returning to your duties.'

'Yes sir.' they replied as one.

Spock turned back to Chekov. 'We are needed on the bridge Ensign.'

'Yes Captain.'

They were in the turbolift when he felt it. When the roar of death deafened him, disorientated him. How many died in an instant? a billion? more? He heard them cry out in his thoughts.

He stumbled, was only vaguely aware of the ensign steadying him, of the hand he'd braced against the wall.

The roar was cut off neatly, utterly. He was once more alone in his mind. But alone in a way he'd never been before. He could feel an emptiness, a space where unknown, unnoticed, his people had dwelt within him.

_k'war'ma'khon._

gone now.

'Captain? Are you alright sir?'

gone.

'Vulcan is gone.' he felt... cold.

* * *

_k'war'ma'khon_ - 'Vibration of extended family' - the mental linking of one Vulcan to another; the being of one people, one world.


	5. Chapter 5: Nyota

**Nyota**

The doctor that treated her mother was the one she recalled from what seemed a lifetime ago in San Francisco. The medical cadet who'd treated her after Spock's brush with pon'farr, the cadet who was friends with Jim Kirk. He was just as gentle and careful of her mother as he'd been of her as he ran a full scan and used a dermal regenerator on the scrapes her mother had obtained in her mad rush from the Katric Ark.

Tamu was wearing one of her favourite dresses with a long sleeved robe over the top to protect her from the sun. She'd pinned her hair up under a matching head wrap in her usual African style. Nyota recalled that she'd been intending to have lunch with Spock's mother at his childhood home. It was obvious from her careful appearance that was where she'd been when Nero had attacked. The pale blue of the dress was marred with blood all down her side. The dried blood was green though, darkening where it oxidised. Not red. Not her's or her father's.

Nyota was glad. She wasn't sure she would have been able to take seeing her father's blood. Although she didn't know what had happened – if there had even been blood when he died.

'What happened mama?' Nyota could not help from asking.

Her mother looked at the large stains. 'One of the Vulcan elders, Sylok I think his name was. I'd met him once or twice at different functions. He was very old. The Ark was collapsing when Spock and Zuberi came to get us. I was helping him keep up…' her mother frowned and closed her eyes for a long moment. 'The tunnel roof fell. Suddenly he wasn't beside me anymore. Crushed under a tonne of rock. Dead in an instant. I suppose he's gone now. I wonder what happens to things in a black hole. I never paid much attention to physics at school...' The odd emotionless tone her mother was using suddenly cracked with sadness once more. 'I won't even be able to take him home and _bury_ him Nyota… he's just _gone._' Her mother's thin frame shook as she started silently sobbing once more.

Nyota held back her own tears and wrapped her mother in an embrace and tried to comfort her.

McCoy met her eyes over her shoulder and mouthed 'sedative?' to her. Nyota nodded.

'Okay Ambassador. I'll just give you the usual routine jabs, antibiotic and whatnot, and then the Lieutenant can take you to your room.' McCoy waited for her mother's brief nod before pressing two hypos to her neck in succession.

Nyota helped her mother off the biobed. 'Doctor, I'll be back to escort the Vulcan Elders to their quarters in a few minutes. Could you ensure they are comfortable until then?'

McCoy glanced over at Vulcans. 'We only have one Vulcan specialist on board and two of them still haven't been checked out. They won't be done for another ten - fifteen minutes at least.' he informed her.

Nyota nodded and guided her mother from the room.

The stateroom Nyota led her mother to had never been used. The bed was unmade and plastic packaging clung to some of the furniture. She perched her mother on the plastic wrapped sofa as she made up the bed with new linen. Tamu's eyes were drooping with McCoy's sedative and she didn't argue with Nyota when she stripped her of her soiled robe and dress down to her slip.

Nyota pulled off her mother's shoes and unwound her hair from her head wrap for her. She then sat near her pillow for five minutes until she was asleep. It was difficult, but she resisted the urge to curl up beside her mother and join her. It was hard being the strong one.

She splashed some water on her face before quickly checking the other nearby staterooms. She enlisted the help of a random ensign she encountered in the corridor and they swiftly made up the beds in the rooms. When she made it back to the medbay the last Vulcan elder was being treated and Kirk was nearby having his cuts and scrapes seen too. She could feel Spock nearby but knew he would be busy. She had yet to feel the ship jump to warp and wondered what Spock's plans were. She then wondered if subspace communications had been re-established. She hadn't had time to address the fault before being called away from the bridge. It would be vital she worked upon them as soon as she was done with the Elders.

As she approached the group of Vulcans Lady Amanda met her eyes and gave her a tiny sad smile. The tall Vulcan at her side could only be Ambassador Sarek, Spock's father. There was a resemblance. Three older Vulcans, a woman and two men, stood beside Sarek facing the forth elder on the biobed.

One of the men spoke in an aside in Van-Kal-Vuhlkansu as she neared them. _'Observe. That one is the human female belonging to Spohkh.'_

At his words she was reminded of the two Vulcans she and Spock had encountered in Nairobi. He sounded like he might be referring to an exotic pet.

Sarek turned to regard the one who had spoken with a look which on Spock Nyota would have interpreted as disapproval. Amanda pursed her lips slightly.

Nyota ignored the entire exchange. It seemed to affect her little in the wake of the pain she was holding at bay. What was a few unthinking, rude words from an old Vulcan when her father was _dead._

'_Honourable-ones - are you ready to retire to you rooms?' _she inquired of them in Vulcan.

'_Her accent is commendable for a human.'_ Another of the males remarked in Van-Kal-Vuhlkansu with apparent approval, like she was a _well-trained_ pet. Nyota debated replying in the same tongue, but did not care enough to make the effort to defend herself or take offense.

Amanda's expression was apologetic. Sarek for his part ignored the comment and responded politely to her inquiry in standard. 'Indeed Lieutenant.'

Nyota nodded. 'This way please Ambassador.'

She noted Spock's presence on the far side of the medbay as she led the group out. He appeared lost in thought. She longed to run across the room and throw her arms around him, but she resolutely squashed the highly emotional desire and ignored his presence.

It was a relatively short and silent journey to the staterooms. She triggered the first door. 'Ambassador Sarek, Lady Amanda this room has been assigned to you.'

Amanda nodded. 'Thank you Lieutenant. Where is Ambassador Uhura staying if you don't mind?'

Nyota indicated the door across the corridor. 'She is has been assigned cabin 12a Lady Amanda.'

Spock's mother nodded her thanks. 'I shall look in upon her later.' she said, obviously aware that Nyota would be otherwise occupied.

'That would be very kind of you Lady Amanda.' Nyota replied.

Amanda gave her another sad smile then entered her room.

Sarek's parting words came as a shock to her. Her father-in-law regarded her with dark eyes eerily similar to Spock's and intoned in a deep voice - _'S'ti th'laktra ko-fu t'telik (I grieve with thee daughter by marriage).'_

Not only had he offered condolences for her father, he'd addressed her as his son's wife. It was greatly in contrast to the other's Vulcan's dismissive talk of her earlier. And what Spock had told her of his father's opinion of their marriage. Her shock was apparently mirrored by the elders but Sarek paid them no mind, turning and disappearing into his room without further comment.

Nyota showed the four elders to their rooms. The one she now knew was Spock's grandmother, the famed Lady T'Pau, did not echo her son's personal address to her, but did deign to thank her for her assistance in heavily accented standard in what for a Vulcan was no small display of politeness.

Nyota returned to the bridge with one less weight on her shoulders. It appeared Sarek had gotten over his issues with having her as a daughter-in-law. Strange how insignificant that seemed now in comparison to all that had occurred in less than a day.

Hurried looks and pitying stares were levelled in her direction as she made her way across the bridge and to her station. Obviously the crew were aware of her sorrows as it were. She ignored the looks and focused on her work, running diagnostics on the damaged subspace communication array. Despite the earpiece in her ear however, it was Spock she listened to, not the ship's intercom chatter, as he made a log entry.

He was in shock.

She could feel that he had not really come to terms with the fact that his entire planet no longer existed. How were you meant to accept that? It was too vast and terrible a concept for any mind, even a Vulcan one, to fully comprehend. 6 Billion dead. An entire sentient species, one of the oldest cultures in their galaxy almost wiped out in a single stroke.

'… I estimate no more than ten thousand have survived. I am now a member of an endangered species.'

He sounded almost as lost as she felt. If losing her father felt like a physical weight inside her, what did her husband feel at the loss of his entire home planet? What if it had been Earth sucked away into nothingness? She tried to imagine it so she might understand better what Spock was feeling, but it was impossible. She wanted to reach for him, but he had dampened their bond, clearly wishing for relative solitude with his thoughts.

Her husband was silent and utterly still for a few seconds in the Captain's chair before he rose abruptly and headed for the turbolift. Nyota found herself on her feet and following him without conscious decision, her earpiece tossed thoughtlessly aside.

Spock's eyes slid to her as she stepped in beside him and the lift doors closed. It was very quiet as she triggered the emergency stop and she was almost loathe to break it.

'I'm sorry.' Tiny insignificant words in the face of the losses of the day. She found herself repeating them as if that would somehow give them additional meaning.

'I'm sorry.'

She pressed her hands to his face. He was like stone beneath her fingers.

'I'm so sorry.'

Her husband regarded her calmly as she made her human gestures of compassion. She could feel his emotions, those dark deep Vulcan feelings, twisting about inside him, looking for a chink in his armour of logic and reason. She stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to help him maintain his calm, his focus, just as he had helped her retain hers in the transporter room.

His rigid stance softened against her slightly, his eyes closing for a moment as she pressed kisses to his lips and across his cheek before embracing him. Her fingers drew circles in the short hair on the nape of his neck as he stood still, accepting her embrace but not returning it. She let her love for him raise the forefront of her mind so he would feel it. After a moment he relaxed into her body, his arms rising to wrap around her and engulfing her in his Vulcan strength and heat. His breath warmed her as he exhaled and buried his face against her neck for a moment, both taking and giving comfort with the gesture.

After only a few seconds she felt him stiffen once more and she found herself whispering against him. 'What do you need? Tell me.' She pulled back, her fingers once more framing his face as she tried to find the answer to her question in his features. 'Tell me?' She didn't know how to comfort him. He wasn't human, he didn't want to cry about it or have her tell him it would be okay or promise vengence.

Spock's face calmed, stilled as his Vulcan control slipped over his mind and body like a cloak and his pain was buried deep within him once more. That in itself was answer enough even before he spoke. He reached out and released the turbolift lock.

Nyota just stared at him, unable to let him go, her heart breaking for him. For the distance he needed.

Finally he spoke.

'I need everyone… to continue to perform… admirably.' he had not yet regained full control of his voice. His pain was evident and it tore at her.

She nodded her acceptance. What he needed wasn't so strange to her. A human might have asked her 'to be strong.' but the sentiment would have been the same. Spock needed her to continue to do her duty, to remain focussed, so that he could to likewise.

'Okay.' She understood. She kissed him once more - a more lingering expression of love than her earlier soothing caresses and he returned the gesture, his lips moving against hers as if he were tempted to kiss her properly. His hand briefly settled on her hip in an intimately possessive gesture and then the doors hissed and he stepped around her and out into the corridor, a perfect image of Vulcan calm. One she knew to be a brittle façade.

She watched him, a tall silent figure parting the small crowd of crew in the corridor with his mere presence. They turned to stare as he passed. Nyota blinked back tears, staring until he turned a corner and was gone from her. Once more she triggered the emergency stop, this time for herself, not Spock.

Twenty minutes later when Spock returned to the bridge she was at her console, dry-eyed, working on identifying the exact damage to the communications array. Performing admirably.

Spock scanned the makeshift bridge crew. His gaze lingering slightly on Kirk who was sitting in the Captain's chair as if he had every right to it. Nyota found his enduring… _kirkness_ almost amusing for a change. No one else would dare to lounge so indolently in what was by rights Spock's chair.

For the moment her husband ignored Kirk's mild insubordination and instead directed his attention towards her as he paced the bridge. 'Have you confirmed that Nero is headed for Earth?'

'Their trajectory suggests no other destination Captain.' Nyota replied turning in her chair to follow Spock's tall figure as he passed by her station.

'Thank you Lieutenant.'

He seemed calm and centred once more. It appeared his inspection of the damage to the ship had settled him in ways her company could not. She attempted not to take offense.

'Earth maybe his next stop but we have to assume every Federation planet's a target.' Kirk added almost thoughtfully from the command chair.

'Out of the chair.' Spock instructed him with a distracted and almost amused tone one might use with a child. It was appropriate given Kirk's apparent maturity.

'Well, if the Federation is the target, why didn't they destroy us?' Chekov asked earnestly from his position at the navigational console.

Sulu had turned to face the ensign from his Helmsman's position beside him. 'Why would they? Why waste a weapon? We obviously weren't a threat.' Although clean and back in uniform the lieutenant was still slightly worse for wear and didn't seem to be in a very good mood.

'That's not it.' her husband replied. 'He said he wanted me to see something – the destruction of my home planet.' How Spock managed to refer so calmly to the genocide of his people amazed even Nyota.

'How the hell did they do that by the way?' Doctor McCoy asked, voicing exactly what Nyota herself had been wondering. 'I mean, where the hell did the Romulans get that kind of weaponry?'

_Where indeed_ Nyota wondered.

Nero had said he 'stood apart' from the Romulan Star Empire. Did that mean the technology of his ship wasn't Romulan in origin? But if not from Romulus, then _where?_

'The engineering competency necessary to artificially create a black hole may suggest an answer.' Spock mused. 'Such technology could theoretically be manipulated to create a tunnel through space-time.'

'Dammit man! I'm a doctor not a physicist!' McCoy barked with his usual restraint 'Are you suggesting they're from the future?' It was a good thing Spock was a Vulcan and not given to taking offense given the way his bridge officers were talking.

'If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' Spock pointed out. Nyota felt a tiny spark of amusement at hearing him quote Sherlock Holmes. If ever a human had resembled a Vulcan, it was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's detective. She wondered when Spock would have read terran fiction. Maybe his mother's influence.

McCoy didn't appear to agree. 'How poetic.'

'Then what would an angry future Romulan want with Captain Pike?' Kirk asked sceptically.

'As Captain, he does know details of Starfleet's defences.' Sulu pointed out reasonably.

'What we need to do is catch up to that ship, disable it, take it over and get Pike back.' Kirk proclaimed decisively - as if he hadn't just outlined what was arguably the _worst_ plan Nyota had ever heard - and she'd spent three years in tactics classes twice a week. She got to her feet and stepped around the tactical display to follow the conversation more closely. They were on the verge of arguing outright and she knew Kirk was fond of using his fists in disagreements_._ Spock did _not _need Kirk trying his patience right now.

Spock pointed out the flaws more diplomatically then she would have done. 'We are technologically outmatched in every way. A rescue attempt would be_… illogical_.' Suicidal. Stupid.

'Nero's ship would have to drop out of warp for us to overtake them.' Chekov added in agreement.

'Then what about assigning Engineering crews to try and boost our warp yield?' Kirk suggested.

'Remaining power and crew are being used to repair radiation leaks on the lower decks -' Spock replied.

'Okay! Alright alright!' Kirk interrupted impatiently.

'- and damage to subspace communications, without which we cannot contact Starfleet.' Spock continued even as Kirk talked over him. Nyota could feel his growing irritation at Kirk's disrespectful behaviour.

'There's got to be some way!'

Spock's face was adamant. 'We _must_ gather with the rest of Starfleet to balance the terms of the next engagement.' It was plain to Nyota at least that Spock was not entirely pleased with his plan but saw no plausible alternative.

'There won't be a next engagement!' Kirk almost yelled. 'By the time we've gathered it will be too late!'

Nyota could tell that although Spock was getting angry at Kirk, most of that anger was directed at their situation. Part of Spock agreed with Kirk, wanted to chase Nero – hunt him down and destroy him - but to do so would be illogical. He was responsible for the _Enterprise_ and he was correct in the assessment he had made of the situation. Nyota felt his frustration. He'd been hoping the crew would point out something he'd not considered. She sighed from her position near the tactical display. She didn't see Kirk or the others offering any actually useful suggestions.

Kirk didn't quit. 'You say he's from the future, knows what's gonna happen? Then the logical thing is to be unpredictable.'

Of course, being unpredictable wouldn't help if the plan was as terrible as Kirk's was. Nyota bit her tongue.

'You're assuming that Nero knows how events are predicted to unfold.' Spock was calm once more, his tone the same one he used occasionally in the debates that could eventuate in his classes. 'To the contrary, Nero's very presence has altered the flow of history. Beginning with the attack on the _USS Kelvin_, culminating in the events of today thereby creating an entirely new chain of incidents that cannot be anticipated by either party_.'_

He was earnestly attempting to explain his decision to Kirk. It was a courtesy Nyota wasn't sure he deserved, since Kirk's plan was apparently 'magically catch up to a faster ship that can jam our transporter beam and communications, get on board somehow, rescue Captain Pike somehow, escape somehow and then succeed were 47 War birds couldn't and blow up his massively powerful ship - somehow.' She didn't voice any of that, instead she was more diplomatic.

'An alternate reality.' She remarked in agreement.

Spock met her gaze briefly in silent thanks for her support before turning once more to Kirk. 'Precisely. Whatever our lives might have been, if the time continuum was disrupted, our destinies have changed.' He crossed the bridge and took his seat. 'Mr Sulu, plot a course for the Laurentian system, warp factor 3.'

'Spock don't do that!' Kirk protested. 'Running back to the rest of the fleet for a -a _confab _is a massive waste of time!'

'These are the orders issued by Captain Pike when he left the ship.' Spock reminded Kirk mildly.

'He also ordered us to go back and get him!' Kirk countered, more or less yelling once more. 'Spock! You're Captain now, you have to make -'

'I am aware of my responsibilities Mr. Kirk.' The contrast between Spock's even voice and Kirk's yelling was striking.

Kirk looked like he wanted to shake Spock. 'Every second we waste Nero's getting closer to his next target!'

'That is correct and why I am instructing you to accept the fact that I alone am in Command.' Spock's voice wasn't so calm and even anymore.

'I will not allow us to go backwards –' Kirk's hands were clenched into fists and he was definitely yelling now.

'Jim! _He's_ the Captain!' Doctor McCoy hissed at Kirk in warning.

'-away from the problem, instead of hunting Nero down!' Kirk finished.

Spock had apparently reached the end of his patience. Kirk's talk was getting too close to mutiny for him to ignore. He rose from his chair and said 'Security, escort him out.'

Kirk grudgingly let two security personnel take him in hand and walk him a few meters across the bridge before he reconsidered and attacking them. Nyota remembered taking hand to hand combat classes in her second year with him. He'd improved. He was free and well on the way to having both the security crew down for the count in a matter of seconds.

'Enough Jim!' McCoy yelled in dismay as Spock calmly approached Kirk from behind.

Nyota reached towards him through their bond, but he was in control of his emotions - wasn't lost in the consuming rage she'd felt in him before – so she withdrew. Sure enough he stopped behind Kirk and simply rendered him unconscious with a nerve pinch to his shoulder.

Kirk crumpled to the ground.

Nyota couldn't say he didn't deserve it. What was he intending to do anyway? Attack Spock and forcibly take control of the ship? He'd been acting first officer for how many hours and already attempting mutiny?

'Get him off this ship.' Spock directed the winded security crew.

Nyota watched Jim Kirk get dragged from the bridge with mixed feelings. On the one had he was an ass and he'd been behaving like one, screaming at Spock - their _Captain_, but on the other, he'd shown such genius on occasion. Obviously Pike recognised it in him, and Spock had expressed, for him at least, almost admiration for Kirk's tactical abilities on at least one occasion. If ever they'd been in a situation where they needed a stroke of genius to hit them, it was now.

She sighed, glanced at Spock and reached towards him through their bond letting him know he had her support and then returned once more to her station. Subspace communications were still out, but with Gaila's aid from the communications lab on the lower decks she thought they'd identified the issue. The moment they were back online she had several high-speed burst missives detailing their situation ready to be sent to both Starfleet Command and the three closest outposts.

If only there was some way to contact the fleet in the Laurentian system and get them to head straight for Earth _right now_.


	6. Chapter 6: Spock

**Spock**

Although no reasonable alternative action had been suggested, Spock could tell that his crew were split down the middle with regards to their orders. Chekov and Sulu performed their duties without complaint, but he noted the frowns and dark looks he received from other crew on the bridge. They were second-guessing his decision.

James Kirk's desire to take an offensive approach was a sentiment many echoed. Even Spock himself would have welcomed such an opportunity. The Romulan had destroyed T'Khasi, not only decimating his people and killing billions, but also erasing thousands of years of Vulcan culture and history. Their homes, from the grandest ancient clan house to the humblest farmer's dwelling, were gone. Temples, cities and monuments - all the physical manifestations of his people's culture and history, erased as if they had never existed.

The insanity of the action meant it defied all Spock's attempts to understand. Nero, in destroying T'Khasi, had destroyed the cradle of his own civilisation as well. Romulans and Vulcans, no matter how estranged, were still descended from the same ancestors. Ancestors who'd lived and died on the sands of a planet that was now gone.

How could the actions of a madman be anticipated? How could he plan any sort of offensive action against such unknowns? Kirk's idea was suicide. And they could not afford that. If the _Enterprise_ failed, there would be no warning of any sort for Earth and in all likelihood his mother's home-world would meet the same fate as his father's. Their duty was clear. Nero had to be stopped as soon as possible and the _Enterprise_ could not do that alone, they needed the Fleet.

And yet sitting in Christopher Pike's command chair, Spock could not help but second guess himself. How many times had his Captain listened to odds and variables outlined by himself and Number One and then cheerfully ignored their advice and proceeded to led them to implausible victory? Would Christopher have done so in this situation? It was an exercise in futility thinking in such a manner but Spock found he could not help but wonder.

He found the Captain's chair was not to his liking.

He desired nothing more than a man he respected to take the seat once more. He would have followed Christopher if _he'd_ ordered them to follow Nero.

Spock restrained a human urge to sigh.

The Chief Medical Officer – Dr McCoy - crossed the bridge to stand before him. 'You wanted to see me sir?'

Spock was aware that the doctor was a friend of James Kirk and proceeded to point out the difficultly this must have posed for him. It was an illogical statement, the doctor's support to his commanding officer should have been unquestionable, but Spock was attempting to reassure his crew and inspire confidence in them as Christopher Pike would have done.

The Doctor was frank in his doubts. It was plan from their conversation that he thought Kirk, for all his flaws, a valuable asset. Spock had sensed similar thoughts from his wife earlier. She'd been witness to James Kirk's occasional fits of tactical genius and had been hoping he might have one to aid their current predicament. Spock imagined the doctor's thoughts were running along a similar vein. He attempted to demonstrate his own awareness of Kirk's abilities, responding to the Doctor's odd equine related metaphor in what he thought was a fitting manner.

The Doctor looked aghast. 'My god man! You could at least _act _like it was a hard decision!'

Apparently his grasp of terran metaphor was not perfect. Rather than reassure the doctor, their conversation appeared to have done just the opposite. Spock mused that it would perhaps be prudent to end the conversation before his own irritation had him snapping like the Doctor.

'I intend to assist in the effort to re-establish communications with Starfleet.' He remarked civilly enough.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and Spock found himself elaborating in a decidedly un-Vulcan manner. 'However if crew morale is better served by my roaming the halls _weeping_, I will gladly defer to your medical expertise.'

Spock blinked. His last statement and tone were quite out of character.

Surprise and amusement came to him from Nyota through their bond. They had been holding tightly to one another via their connection since Kirk's outburst - a small measure of comfort as they went about their duties - and she had 'overheard' his statement. He had evidentially made exceedingly good use of sarcasm in her opinion.

He held in a frown at his lack of control. It appeared he was as unable to maintain civil conversation as Kirk and Doctor McCoy himself. Next he would he yelling and showering crew members in spittle.

The doctor however looked - oddly - calmer in the face of snide sarcasm. Spock mentally gave up on the conversation. _Humans._

5.2 meters behind the doctor the turbolift doors opened with a hiss and his father emerged onto the bridge escorted by a security crew member. For the first time in nearly a decade Sarek's face was almost a relief to him.

Spock glanced at the Doctor and managed to bid him farewell politely enough. 'Excuse me.'

Dr McCoy nodded in vague acceptance and shifted slightly so that Spock could walk around him to approach his father.

Sarek's face was cool but free of the coldness that Spock had come to expect from him since his departure from Vulcan at 19.

'Father.' Spock greeted neutrally.

Sarek nodded. 'My son. Your mother is with Ambassador Uhura. I find I am of little use. I wondered if you might have some task of use for me?'

Spock tilted his head. It was strange to be spoken to in such a manner after nearly a decade of silence. 'Radiation leaks in decks 3-6 and damage to the starboard warp narcelle are being seen to by engineering, however the subspace communications array is still non-operational and we have no senior technical staff specialising in the system on board. I had intended to assist in a repair of the system. Your assistance in this regard would beneficial.'

Sarek inclined his head. 'Very well.' His father was oddly calm. More at peace then Spock had known him to be in many years. He wondered at that in light of recent events.

Spock led him to the communications console. A red backside and a pair of shapely green legs were visible beneath the desk.

'Gai! Try the third circuit now!' came his wife's muffled voice from the open maintenance hatch in the wall three meters to his left.

There was some shuffling, a loud thud, a highly descriptive and illogical aspersion upon the anatomy of the communications console's mother in Yrevish and then Gaila U'Aidat crowed 'Got it!' victoriously in standard.

'Is it the right one?' Nyota's muffled voice inquired.

'Yeah it's totally fried.' Gaila U'Aidat replied.

Spock and Sarek stepped back as the Orion woman wiggled backwards and got to her feet. She ignored Spock and his father, instead frowning and staring intently at a crystal circuit board that was blackened and slightly warped.

'How many is that?' Nyota asked as she emerged from the maintenance hatch looking rather rumpled. Her eyes widened in surprise at finding Spock and Sarek standing behind her friend.

'_Seven_.' replied acting Ensign U'Aidat gloomily.

'I assume you have located the cause of the fault in our subspace communications board?' Spock inquired.

Ensign U'Aidat made a high pitched noise of surprise and spun towards his voice. Evidently she had been unaware of their presence.

She clutched the circuit to her chest and tripped over her words in such a manner that it would be improbable that anyone would guess she was in fact a skilled linguist.

'Oh! Spock!' she winced at the familiarity, 'Commander! I mean Captain Sir! I didn't see you there.'

Her eyes darted to Sarek. She clearly had no idea if she should greet him. Or who he was for that matter.

Spock raised an eyebrow. 'The fault Ensign U'Aidat?'

'Oh! Yessir. We were only able to run partial diagnostics but they showed faults in the transmission processors. We've located seven overloaded circuits. Thorough visual inspection hasn't revealed evidence of further damage, but we can't be certain until we effect repairs and run full diagnostics.' She held out the circuit for him to inspect.

It did indeed appear to have been overloaded. Spock frowned minutely. 'Seven circuits Ensign?'

'Yessir.'

'I do not believe we have so many aboard in surplus.' he remarked.

'Affirmative sir.' Nyota replied from beside U'Aidat. 'Ships manifest indicates that we have three replacements. This sort of damage is highly irregular and appears to have been caused by an extreme power build up due to the Romulan jamming technology.' She frowned. 'We don't have fabrication schematics to replicate additional units. We will have to repair the other four circuits by hand'

U'Aidat sighed. 'Which will take _hours_ with only two of us_._' She pouted in displeasure before continuing. 'Lieutenant Hawkins was the only other communications specialist aboard and he was badly injured when deck 6 was hit. He's in medbay and Dr McCoy says he won't be conscious let alone fit for light duty for at least 48 hours.'

'And engineering staff are busy with the radiation leaks.' Nyota added.

'And those boys are useless with delicate circuitry anyway.' Ensign U'Aidat said.

Spock handed the damaged circuit board to Sarek. His father gave it a brief examination. 'You intend to strip the damaged insulation crystal and replace the optical fuses and diodes individually?' he inquired.

Gaila U'Aidat's perfectly groomed left eyebrow lifted and a slow smile spread over her face. 'Got it in one.' She gave his father a very thorough once over and glanced at Spock, 'Who's your handsome friend Captain?'

Behind her Nyota sighed audibly.

'Ensign U'Aidat, this is Ambassador Sarek.' He gave her a pointed look. 'My _father._'

The Orion girl smirked and flashed a ta'al at his father. 'Ambassador Sir. It's always a pleasure to meet a man who knows his way around complex circuitry. Some men are all _thumbs_.'

Nyota's lips pursed and Spock could feel her distinct lack of amusement through their bond. She was not pleased that Gaila was attempting to flirt with his father. Spock reached to her and shared his suspicion that Sarek would be more or less oblivious, or at least would feign ignorance.

Indeed, his father returned Ensign U'Aidat's ta'al and remarked conversationally. 'I am confident I can aid you in effecting these repairs more expediently Ensign U'Aidat.'

The Ensign smiled widely. 'Excellent! Let's get to the cleanroom and fix these up!' Apparently remembering that she should defer to Nyota as Chief Communications Officer, the Orion turned back to her for confirmation.

Nyota nodded. 'I'll stop by ship's stores and pick up the replacement boards and met you there Ensign.'

'Yes Lieutenant.' U'Aidat replied and gestured for his father to follow her.

Spock stood beside Nyota for a moment as the two departed. 'I will accompany you to the ship's stores and install the replacement boards here whilst you see to the repairs of the others Lieutenant.'

'Very well sir.' she replied and led him off the bridge.

Once in the privacy of the turbolift she spoke once more. 'He called me daughter in front of the Vulcan Elders and your grandmother earlier.' The remark was made conversationally.

Spock's head snapped to stare at her in surprise. 'That is unexpected. Pid-kom T'Pau expressed displeasure with our match and mother indicated much pressure was being placed upon my father by her.'

She nodded. 'Yes, it took me quite by surprise… and he seemed… annoyed?' she paused, 'or at least what I'd interpret as irritation in you, when the elders spoke dismissively of me in High Vulcan.'

Spock frowned. 'In your presence?'

'Yes.'

Spock swapped to Vuhlkansu as they left the lift on deck 9 so they would not be overheard. _'Regardless of his opinion on the matter, you are my wife and a member of our house. Such an action was still an insult to him as much as you.'_

'_Doubly insulting since he is also bonded to a human.'_ Nyota pointed out.

'_Indeed. Did T'Pau speak of you in such a manner?'_ His grandmother could be exceedingly cold. He hoped she had not spoken ill of his wife.

'_No. She was very polite for a Vulcan. She even used standard when she spoke to me.'_ Nyota replied.

In light of all that had befallen them since James Kirk's disciplinary hearing 9.3 hours earlier, it was a pitiful thing - the suggestion of acceptance from his family – but it was something. The tiny blank space amidst his familial bonds tugged at Spock's attention. He felt that he should share what he had felt from Zuberi across their tedious connection. But he knew Nyota was still simply ignoring her pain at her father's death, pushing it aside to be dealt with later, and was loathe to jeopardise her control in that regard.

'_What is it?'_ she inquired sensing the general direction his thoughts had taken.

They were approaching the large hangar that housed the meticulously archived ship's stores. Spock knew that there wasn't an attendant on duty, no crew could be spared for such a minor administrative role. He triggered the locked door and allowed Nyota to precede him inside. She made her way to a console and requested the necessary part from the inventory, still awaiting a response from him.

'_I melded with your father in Nairobi.'_

Her fingers paused for 1.7 seconds on the input pad before skipping back into action.

'_A small connection remained. I felt his... passing, and just prior to that, an impression of his thoughts.'_

He felt Nyota's emotions wavering wildly although she showed no outward sign of distress. The console in front of her beeped and Spock saw she had processed their order. The required parts would, depending on their location in the stores, take a few minutes to be transported automatically to the pick-up point.

Nyota continued to stare at the console screen. _'Perhaps you should finish telling me of this another time adun.'_

Spock crossed the small space to stand beside her. He hesitated, wanting to offer her comfort but as always, uncertain in his physical expressions of affection. She turned to look up at him with dark eyes bright with unshed tears. 1.2 seconds later he found that he had pulled her into his arms. _'Yes. Another time. I simply wished…'_

Her hands gripped his uniform and she pressed herself against him, her face resting against his chest. Spock let his words of explanation die in his throat and instead let their bond flood him, the connection spreading to engulf them both completely. Their pain - her sorrow for her father and the loss of Vulcan and his impotent rage at the same swelled between them and then was swallowed underneath a far greater wave of shared emotion, that which bound their hearts and souls together into one – love. It was a potent mix of feelings both human and Vulcan; an endless well of devotion and affection they carried between them.

Nyota clung to him desperately, both physically and mentally. Spock rubbed circles on her back and allowed himself the luxury of burying his face against her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her. She sighed, her breath warm against his ear and he tightened his grip on her, savouring her presence.

The console let out a soft chime of alert as the replacement circuits were deposited in the pick-up point. Nyota straightened and glanced up at him, wordlessly communicating their need to return to their duties. Spock pressed a brief kiss to her lips, basking for an additional 3.2 seconds in her glorious affection and then stepped back from her and tamped down on their marriage bond once more.

With no hint of her earlier distress, she inspected the circuits through their transparent vacuum packing. 'They're the correct specification and are un-damaged.' she informed him.

Spock took the stack of circuits from her and they headed back out into the ship. 'Very good. I will install these. Keep me informed of your progress with the remaining circuits Nyota.'

'Of course. With three of us it shouldn't take long. I'll give you an estimate once I've spoken with Gaila.' she replied as they entered the turbolift once more. 'Deck 7 and bridge.' she informed the lift computer.

2.1 seconds later the doors opened on deck 7. Nyota brushed her fingers past his in a subtle caress as she stepped past him and out into the hall. Spock stared at her retreating back as the doors cycled closed.

Sulu reported that their status was unchanged as he entered the bridge. Spock acknowledged him and started on the communication console repairs. 6.2 minutes later Nyota informed him over the ship's intercom that she estimated 30 minutes were needed to complete their repairs to the other circuits. Spock spent the next 33.7 minutes installing the replacement circuitry.

Sarek accompanied Ensign U'Aidat and Nyota when they returned to the bridge with the repaired boards. The women quickly began fitting and reassembling the transmission rack with more speed than he could have managed, aided in no small part by their smaller hands.

His father remained at his side silently observing the two women in case he could be of further assistance. Spock wanted to speak to him of Nyota, ask if his father had come to terms with his choice of bondmate, but knew the middle of a starship bridge was not the place for such a conversation, though he sensed his father also wished to speak of personal matters.

Spock was drawn from introspection by Ensign Chekov's confused voice cutting across the bridge to him. 'Captain Spock? Detecting unauthorised access to water turbine control board.'

Spock crossed to his console in confusion. Sabotage to the water cooling system would achieve very little and such a basic system required little crew interaction so it was hard to imagine a scenario which could have resulted in their accidental operation.

'Bring up the video.' he instructed the ensign.

Two men were struggling to their feet amid a large puddle in the middle of the Engineering deck. One was instantly recognisable as James Kirk. Spock triggered the intercom. 'Security secure the Engineering Deck. We have intruders in turbine section 3. Set phasers to stun.'

8.2 minutes later Ensigns Hendricks and DeSalle appeared on the bridge escorting a dripping James Kirk and an unidentified human male at phaser point. How had Kirk gotten back on board? His escape pod had been jettisoned onto Delta Vega and the chances of him locating a warp capable ship on that inhospitable ice-planet were too infinitesimal for even a Vulcan to calculate. And the _Enterprise_ was travelling at warp - ship or no, Kirk shouldn't have been able to get aboard. And _why_ would he interfere with the water turbine?

Spock crossed to stand before them in disbelief. 'Who are you?' he asked at Kirk's companion.

'I'm with him.' the winded man replied in Scottish accented standard.

'He's with me.' Kirk confirmed.

Ignoring their avoidance of the question for the moment Spock posed another. 'We are travelling at warp speed. How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?'

'You're the genius. You figure it out.' Kirk replied belligerently.

'As acting Captain of this vessel I order you to answer the question.'

'Well I'm not telling _acting Captain_.' Kirk responded with immaturity ill-suited to a Starfleet officer. 'What? What now - that doesn't frustrate you does it? My lack of co-operation? That doesn't make you angry?' Kirk continued argumentatively.

It was apparent to Spock that James Kirk was attempting to elicit an emotional response in him. Accordingly, he ignored him and turned his attention to the as yet un-identified man beside him. 'Are you a member of Starfleet?' he inquired.

'Erm. Yes.' was the hesitant response. 'Can I get a towel?' the dripping man inquired.

Spock wondered again what they had been doing to the water turbine, but he had more pressing concerns.

'Under penalty of court-martial I order you to explain to me how you were able to beam aboard this ship while moving at warp.' Spock let his impatience tone his words slightly as emphasise his seriousness.

'Well...' the man started before being cut off by Kirk.

'Don't answer him.'

Spock felt his control over his anger slipping despite his awareness that Kirk was goading him intentionally.

'You. Will. Answer. Me.' he ordered Kirk's companion.

The man glanced between Spock and Kirk smiling nervously. 'I'd rather not take sides…' he replied.

Kirk stepped forward aggressively. 'What is it with you Spock? Hmm?' he inquired erratically. 'Your planet was just destroyed. Your friend Captain Uhura _murdered._ Your people _massacred… _And you're not even upset.'

Spock felt a spike of rage that Kirk would dare bring the genocide of his people into what was clearly a personal grievance and that he would refer to the death of Nyota's father so flippantly in her presence. He felt an echo of distress from her.

'If you are presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship you are mistaken.' Spock informed him emphatically. He wondered if Kirk was attempting to assume control of the ship via regulation 619.

'And yet you were the one that said fear was necessary for a commander.' Kirk remarked. 'Did – Did you _see_ his ship? Did you see what he did?'

'Yes of course I did.' Spock found himself replying automatically.

'So are you afraid or aren't you?' Kirk demanded.

'I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion.' Spock replied as he tried to retain his emotional control.

'Then why don't you stop me?' Kirk goaded, leaning far too close for personal comfort.

'Step away from me Mr Kirk.'

'What is it like not to feel anger, or heartbreak? Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the murder of _6 billion_ people?' Kirk's voice had twisted into something cruel and taunting.

Spock was aware that his respiration had increased by 20% and that his heart rate was accelerated. He found he did not have the control to calm them. He could feel Nyota pulling at him, trying to help him centre himself.

'Back away…' he spoke in warning but Kirk cut him off again.

'You feel _nothing!_' Kirk was screaming in his face now. 'It must not even_ compute _for you! Did you feel _anything_ when Captain Uhura died?'

Mention of Nyota's father imbalanced his control further. Guilt intensified the anger. His mother lived – her live paid for with the death of his wife's father. Who was his _friend._

How _dare_ Kirk speak of things he didn't even begin to understand? He could feel Nyota's intensifying distress through their bond and tried to spare her his own turmoil, dampening their bond.

Kirk was still speaking, his voice rising as he sensed Spock's eroding control '…When you had to tell his _daughter _he was dead? That you took him down to the planet to die so _your _parents would live?'

Spock heard himself yell, felt Kirk's face beneath his fist but his body was moving without conscious direction from his brain. Rage filled him. He felt Nyota pulling at him, but he was powerless to control his emotions. He grabbed Kirk by his wet shirt and threw him bodily across the bridge.

Kirk tried to retaliate, but _suss mahna _easily deflected his weak human attack. Three effortless hits and Kirk was on his back on the Navigational console, winded. Something shattered and Spock felt a twinge of irritation that Kirk had damaged the console. He followed, advancing upon his opponent, eager to hit him again, _harder._

Nyota was calling his name through their bond, trying in vain to bring him to his senses but he couldn't… couldn't smoother the rage that had been unleashed by Kirk's taunts. It wasn't even really directed at him. It was directed at Nero, at himself, at everything that had occurred since Spock had risen from his meditation that morning back in San Francisco.

Kirk stumbled to his feet as if to return to the offensive but ended up cowering behind his arms trying to block Spock's attacks. Negligently Spock backhanded him across the bridge and into the helmsman's console. The fight was gone from his human opponent but Spock wasn't satisfied. He wanted to beat his fists bloody. He wrapped a hand around Kirk's neck and growled at him in anger at his weakness.

He could feel Nyota's mounting horror and fear and tried to find the will to release his grip.

Kirk coughed, choked, squirmed beneath him, his face turning red. Spock's grip was compressing his carotid arteries as well as his trachea. Given his size and level of fitness he anticipated Kirk would lose consciousness within 17 seconds. Nyota's panic spiked as she realised the seriousness of his intent. Spock panted, unable to remove his eyes from Kirk's panicked face even as he tried to release his grip, step back as Nyota was begging him too.

'_Spohkh_!' His father's voice cut through the tense atmosphere like a whip and Spock's mind was his own once more. He took a breath and blinked slowly. Kirk was still gasping beneath him. He released him and backed away from the choking man.

The bridge was silent save for Kirk's gasping breaths. The rage drained away like a lanced wound leaving Spock empty. He felt... felt... shame. Nyota was flooding their bond with intense relief but he could sense her fear. She'd thought he might kill Kirk. He nearly had. He turned to look at her but couldn't hold her gaze.

He made no attempt to look at his father. He'd find only disapproval there.

Disappointment.

He recalled conversations as child when he'd lost his temper. Sarek's palpable disappointment in his son's weak _human_ emotional control. Throttling a fellow crew member, belligerent or not, was far worse than any of his childish indiscretions.

The bridge crew were frozen, cringing back from him in shock and fear. He doubted they'd ever seen a Vulcan act so violently before. It was unlikely they ever would again given the decimation of his race.

Spock crossed the bridge and paused near Dr McCoy but made no attempt at eye contact.

'Doctor I am... no longer fit for duty.' His breath was uneven. He tried to smooth it. 'I hereby relinquish my command based upon the fact that I have been emotionally compromised. Please note the time and date in the ship's log.'

The Doctor made no response and Spock did not wait for one. He turned and made his way towards the turbolift, his eyes on the ground. Nyota followed him to the turbolift, her concern and love pouring through their bond like a monsoon torrent. He met her eyes and let her see his appreciation for her concern, but let her know he that he needed to be alone. He sent her the impression of his asenoi knowing she would know he meant to mediate.

She gave him a tiny nod and the mental equivalent of a hug. The turbolift doors hissed shut and he felt the tug of their bond stretching as he shot down through the ship's decks. Her strength continued to amaze him. Had he lost one of his parents he was certain he would not have been able to function as admirably as his human wife was managing to.

He had intended to make use of the first officer's quarters. To mediate and try and find his calm once more. Instead he found himself walking the corridors that lead to Transporter Room 2. Kirk's voice came over the ship's intercom as he walked.

'Attention crew of the _Enterprise._ This is James Kirk. Mr Spock has resigned commission and advanced me to Acting Captain. I know you were all expecting to regroup with the fleet, but I'm ordering a pursuit course of the enemy ship to earth. I want all departments at battle stations ready in ten minutes. Either we're going down, or they are. Kirk out.'

Melodramatic, fatalistic, violent and illogical - utterly human. He hoped Kirk's decision was the right one, hoped Christopher Pike's belief in the man was justified.

The transporter room was empty. They were at warp and there was no one monitoring the station. He found himself standing on the edge of the platform silently regarding the pad that should have contained Zuberi Uhura and the one that should not have contained his mother. How was he to accept his… relief that it was Zuberi who was dead and not his mother? It was a logical enough preference he supposed, he did not think Nyota would begrudge him it any more than he would begrudge her the same preference had their roles been reversed.

But the fact remained that Zuberi had only had to make that choice because of a failure he had made. He had not ensured his mother's safety. Such a simple thing, holding onto her hand, he'd considered doing exactly that just moments before the cliff gave way and yet his Vulcan propriety, his discomfort at human gestures of affection had stayed his hand. Why? Because he did not wish the elders to see him as anything less than Vulcan?

Was there anything so illogical as that lifelong pretence?

A human woman had born him, raised him, loved him. He was as much Amanda of Earth's son as he was Sarek of Vulcan's, whatever the exact ratio of their genetic material inside him. He found no peace. 28 years and he was still no closer to finding balance between his Vulcan and Human aspects. Perhaps there was none.

He felt his father's approach but did not turn. The lecture that would be forthcoming was not welcome and familiar to him.

'Speak you mind son.' Sarek said, surprising him.

'That would be unwise.' Spock responded softly, unable to mask the disquiet he felt.

His father did not seem put off by his emotional tone. 'What is necessary is never unwise.' He was not speaking at all as Spock had expected.

'I am as conflicted as I once was as child.' he admitted.

There was little point in hiding his turmoil from his father. After his display of violence on the bridge it would be plain to him.

'You will always be a child of two worlds.' his father intoned sensing exactly the source of his son's unease. 'I am grateful for this...'

Spock felt shock. His father had never expressed such a sentiment before. Previously he'd only ever spoken of the need for Spock to choose one or the other. Earth or Vulcan.

'… And for you.' his father concluded with plain affection he had not expressed to Spock for far longer than a decade.

Spock turned to him and found himself admitting to his emotions. 'I feel anger for the one who took so much life. An anger I cannot control.'

'Were I human, I believe I would say: Do not try to.' Sarek replied thoughtfully.

'You would have me take _human_ advice in this?' Spock asked in disbelief.

'I would have you accept that you cannot be Vulcan in all things, and it would be… _illogical_ for you to continue to strive to be so.'

Spock stared in shock. What Sarek had just said was the complete opposite of all he had instilled in him as a child, when he had expended so much effort to repress all that was human in his son.

'Now when I require the control of a Vulcan more than ever, _now_ you would have me embrace my humanity?' he was aware that his voiceawas sharp. Almost sarcastic. Almost human.

Sarek was silent for a period of 7 seconds. 'I have not always been honest with you Spock. I have held you to an ideal of logic which even I have not lived by.' he said.

His words were cryptic. 'Clarify.' Spock requested.

'You asked me once why I married you mother.' his father continued. He visibly steeled himself before continuing. 'I married her because I loved her.'

His father met his gaze evenly for a moment and for the first time in 9.7 years Spock felt him reach to him through their faded familial bond. He reached back. The connection between them was suddenly warm with _affection._ Emotion. Spock felt pride and love and guilt from his father. It was vastly different from the human love his mother bore him, but it was love all the same. Unconditional.

And then he was gone, withdrawing and dampening their bond once more, but not as entirely as it had been before.

His father spoke again in Vuhlkansu. _'You will find your path __Spohkh_, and it need not be one or the other.'

Sarek stared at his son for a long moment, letting the full import of his words sink in before he turned and walked away.

Spock blinked.

In a matter of seconds his father had casually overthrown all that he had ever taught him to believe in. He'd more or less apologised. It was something not anticipated.

_Love._ Sarek of Vulcan admitted to _loving _his outlandish human wife?

'_You will always be a child of two worlds. I am grateful for this. And for you.'_

He was _pleased _by Spock's human side?

'_I would have you accept that you cannot be Vulcan in all things, and it would be… illogical for you to continue to strive to be so.'_

Spock had not meditated, had not repressed his anger at Nero to manageable levels, but he felt lighter, calmer.

He could not be Vulcan in all things.

It appeared he could not be Vulcan in this.

The Vulcan way - the Analects of Surak relevant to such feelings;

_Ri klau au ik klau tu. (Do no harm to those that harm you.),_

_Nufau au sochya - yi dungi ma tu sochya. (Offer them peace, then you will have peace.),_

_Tilek svi'khaf-spol t'vathu - tilek svi'sha'veh. (The spear in the other's heart is the spear in your own.);_

- they did not bring him peace. They _angered_ him.

He could not accept them.

He wanted vengeance, revenge.

No.

No not that.

That was not it. That was not what he felt...

He did not want revenge - he did not wish to hurt Nero as Nero had hurt him. He had no desire to see Romulus destroyed, he wanted...

Justice.

Yes.

He wanted_ justice_ for his home world, for those billions of voices calling out and being silenced, for the emptiness of the _k'war'ma'khon._

He did not want to offer Nero _peace._ He did not wish to accept the harm he had caused and give none in return. The part of him that was human didn't even care if it cost his own life, if the spear in Nero's heart was the spear in his own as Surak claimed.

He recalled introspection he had once made into the bloodthirsty nature of humans. He had ruminated upon it after attacking Jonathan C Sparcs.

Humans were civilised in their violence.

Rules on honourable combat were mirrored independently across dozens of disparate cultures across the planet Earth. The basis was simple, to hurt the innocent or to attack the weak was dishonourable - in many cultures a crime. In contrast, even now there were still laws pertaining to when violence, even murder, was permissible to a citizen of United Earth.

He hadn't really understood at the time, but perhaps those rules were as vital to humanity as the teachings of logic were to Vulcans. Although such laws were utterly alien to Vulcan culture, suddenly they did not seem so alien to him.

Nero's actions went against all of those ancient human laws. He had murdered innocents. He had offered no recourse. Therefore no human would question that he deserved death. It was a truth they accepted without conscious thought on the matter. It was a thought he agreed with.

He felt a reflexive sense of shame at his thoughts but consciously explored the feeling.

He was the son of a human woman. He could not be Vulcan in all things because he was not entirely Vulcan. To attempt to change the very fibre of his being was illogical.

His father advised he attempt to conform to human standards with regards to his anger at Nero's atrocity.

It was not an unreasonable suggestion.


	7. Chapter 7: Nyota

**Nyota**

Spock had blocked her slightly within their bond, muting the connection, but she had felt him calm remarkably soon after his father had followed him off the bridge.

His rage had frightened her.

She had witnessed it before, but those expressions of Spock's anger had been under very different and specific circumstances. Vulcans were territorial of their mates. On the two previous occasions she had seen Spock lose his emotional control, she had been injured and threatened by another male. In those situations his response had been an instinctual one

His attack on Kirk had been different. Her husband had been aware that Kirk was provoking him intentionally, had even guessed that he hoped to prove him unfit for command pursuant to Starfleet Regulation 619, and yet he had let himself be taunted into a physical altercation.

He had almost wanted to fight, wanted an outlet for the intense rage she felt within him directed at Nero.

She tried to push her concerns for him from her mind to focus on her duties. Kirk had taken command and they were now making their way towards Earth to face Nero.

Kirk was wisely avoiding conversation with her. Nyota was coolly furious at him. Not only had he reduced her traumatised husband's control to tatters, he'd used _her father _to do it. Only her professionalism and the dire situation they were in was enabling her to maintain a civil demeanour around him. Kirk was therefore studiously avoiding eye contact with her and was instead arguing with Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Sulu.

They were talking in circles trying to figure out a way to 'sneak' aboard the _Narada_. Kirk's plan remained idiotic and doomed to failure in her opinion. If he got them all killed she'd… she'd spend her last moments alive _really _pissed off at him.

She glanced around the bridge. Gaila was still working on the communications array. They'd replaced the overloaded circuitry that Sarek had helped them repair only to discover another issue in the power relay. The relay was awkwardly positioned deep inside the console and replacing it was most definitely a one person job best performed by someone with tiny hands. Gaila's boots and green legs were all that was visible from the communications console. Nyota turned her attention from her and continued her perusal of the bridge.

There were crew members everywhere frantically trying to bring the damaged Enterprise up to full battle stations as per their Acting Captain's orders. His ten minutes had long come and gone but they were getting closer to having shields and weapons operational and online.

The young Russian navigator Chekov had run off to make calculations on one of the tactical displays. He now excitedly dashed back towards them.

'Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk!' he called.

'Yes, Chekov. What is it?' Kirk distractedly replied pulling himself from his argument with Lieutenant Sulu.

'Based on the _Narada's_ course from Vulcan...' the Ensign excitedly began, '…I have projected that Nero will travel pass Saturn.' Kirk had a blank look on his face. 'Like you said we need to stay invisible to Nero or he'll destroy us.' Kirk nodded, Sulu and McCoy began to look more interested and Kirk's mysterious engineer sidled up behind the group drying himself with a towel. 'If Mr. Scott can get us to warp factor 4 and if we drop out of warp behind one of Saturn's moons,' he paused and waved his stylus around, '…say _Titan_ -the magnetic distortion from the planet's rings will make us invisible to Nero's sensors!'

Sulu, McCoy, Scott and Kirk were giving the young Ensign their full attention now and Nyota herself felt a twinge of hope. This was the first plausible sounding theory anyone had come up with.

'From there, as long as the drill is not activated we can beam aboard the enemy ship!' Chekov concluded proudly. Yes using the implausible transporter technique that Kirk and Scott had used to get aboard. Chekov's plan seemed... like it _might_ actually work.

Kirk glanced at his engineer who gave nodded. 'Aye, that might work.' he confirmed.

Doctor McCoy didn't appear convinced however. Nyota wondered at that, out of the group he was undoubtedly the one with the weakest knowledge of Astrophysics. He'd proclaimed as much to her husband a few hours earlier with his 'I'm a physician not a physicist!' comment.

'Wait a minute kid, how old are you?' he asked sceptically.

'17, sir!' Ensign Chekov replied cheerfully.

Nyota smiled slightly at his exuberance.

The doctor sighed and shot a pointed look at Kirk. 'Oh _good_, he's _17.'_

'Doctor. Mr. Chekov is correct.' Nyota's breath caught as Spock's deep voice broke across the bridge. The ensign in operations gold nearest the turbolift clutched his PADD and looked at Spock in transparent fear, almost like he might try and make a run for it. Clearly the man had witnessed Spock's violent outburst earlier.

Spock looked like his confident, unflappable, Vulcan self once more however. Unconsciously Nyota reached across their bond towards him, the warm affection that greeted her reassuring her immensely. He felt like her husband again. She took a step towards him, longing to wrap her arms around him, but she remembered herself and came to an awkward halt.

'I can confirm his telemetry.' he continued as Nyota tried to focus on what he was saying and keep the smile off her face. 'If Mr. Sulu is able to manoeuvre us into position, I can beam aboard Nero's ship, steal back the black hole device and if possible, bring back Captain Pike.'

'I won't allow you to do that Mr. Spock. ' Kirk replied quietly. _Guiltily_ Nyota hoped.

'Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry.' Spock reminded Kirk. 'Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship's computer to locate the device.' he paused, his voice changing slightly. 'Also my mother is human. Which makes Earth the only home I have left.'

Nyota could tell from the shuffling of the men around her that this had not been common knowledge to them.

After a pause Kirk added, predictably, 'Then I'm coming with you.'

Spock inclined his head and replied in that same almost amused tone of voice he'd used what felt like _years_ earlier when Kirk had been sitting in the Captain's chair. 'I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it.' Yes. Her husband had Kirk down pat.

Kirk smiled. 'See? We are getting to know each other.' He emphasised his words by slapping Spock on the arm.

Spock's reaction to the overly familiar gesture was stilted and nonplussed confusion.

'Well? Spock? You coming or not?' Kirk called from the turbolift as if they were old buddies, as if he hadn't attempted to give her husband a mental breakdown less than an hour earlier talking smack about the massacre of his entire race. Nyota clenched her jaw and breathed out through her nose, trying to calm her anger at Kirk.

Spock's head tilted and Nyota didn't need to see his face to know there was a sceptical Vulcan eyebrow somewhere in the vicinity of his fringe.

'Um, Captain? I need to get us to warp factor 4 first.' Engineer Scott reminded Kirk, throwing the towel down on a nearby chair and jogging towards the turbolift.

'And I haven't plotted the course into the navigational computer yet sir.' Chekov added with his stylus in the air like a child asking a question in a classroom.

'And I have to actually get us to Titan before you can beam anywhere sir.' Sulu continued.

'_And_ we'll need to confirm they haven't already dispatched the jamming device before we can beam you anywhere.' Nyota said, pointedly leaving off the 'sir'.

'And I need a drink.' McCoy finished wryly.

Kirk pouted. Actually pouted. Then sighed and made his way back from the turbolift and collapsed into the command chair.

Nyota shook her head at the acting Captain's enduring immaturity and crossed the bridge to see how Gaila was going before she gave into the urge to slap him.

'Gaila? How's the power relay coming along?' she asked.

If Spock and Kirk were going to be beamed onto the Romulan ship she wanted to remain in communication with them for as long possible.

'Annoyingly!' came the muffled, decidedly waspish response from beneath the console. Gaila's boots shifted and she wiggled out from under the console. 'Ten minutes maybe. The last power uplinks are _so_ hard to connect!'

Nyota nodded. She was intimately familiar with them from her time tinkering with the console as Spock's TA. 'I know, why do you think I let you do the dirty work?'

Her friend sighed. 'I assumed it was because after only a single day, the power of out-ranking me had already gone to your head.'

'Ensign U'Aidat!' Nyota gasped in false admonishment.

Kirk, no doubt bored at having to sit still for a few minutes, chose that moment to look over in their direction. At the rather… _acidic_ looks both she and Gaila gave him his eyes widened comically and he quickly looked away. Spock, who was quietly conferring with Chekov at the navigational console, looked up and caught the exchange. Judging from the mild interest she felt from him, it was apparent he would almost enjoy watching herself and Gaila taking out their mutual displeasure upon Kirk.

'_I can't believe that ass is Acting Captain.'_ Gaila hissed in her native tongue.

'_I agree whole heartedly Gaila. But I'm going to wait until after Nero's taken care of to give Kirk a piece of my mind.'_ Nyota replied. _'Or more accurately, a close up view of my manicure when I slap him right in his big fat mouth.'_

_'Count me in.'_ Gaila muttered darkly before disappearing once more under the console. Nyota spent a few minutes updating the burst messages she'd prepared to be sent to Starfleet earlier. She didn't mention their current plans however. If Nero was from the future, he might be able to break their encryption. The last thing Kirk and Spock needed was Nero getting a heads up on their intentions. Instead the burst messages contained all the pertinent information on Nero and the Narada and the threat they posed.

She skirted around the idea of what Kirk and her husband would soon be doing in her thoughts. Inspecting 'the plan' in any detail would most likely result in her attaching herself hysterically to Spock and refusing to allow him to depart. Through their bond she could tell Spock was going over possible scenarios in detail, calculating odds and strategies based upon his limited information. It was a struggle but she pulled herself from him so as not to cause distraction.

Instead she programmed two comm units to the priority bridge frequency for when, hopefully, they would have communications up again, but also sequenced them for emergency radio communication via the ship's intercom. The antiquated technology wouldn't work at any distance, the transmitters in the units were tiny, but could conceivably come in handy for communication between the two men or in the event that the _Enterprise_ came into close combat with the _Narada._ Not that the _Enterprise _had any chance of winning such an engagement…

'Course plotted Captain!' Chekov informed Kirk.

Kirk slapped the intercom in his chair and a view of the Engineering deck appeared in the corner of the main viewscreen. 'Scotty!' Kirk called. 'Do we have warp 4 yet?'

'Aye Captain! She's prepped and ready to go.' the engineer replied.

'Mr Sulu!' Kirk instructed as he got to his feet. 'Let's do this.' Nyota glanced at Spock but he was calmly regarding the viewscreen.

'Aye Captain. Engaging warp, factor 4.' replied the helmsman as he worked over his controls. The stars in the viewscreen stretched.

She turned back to where Spock had been standing but he and Kirk were already headed to the turbolift. 'Mr Sulu, you have the con.' Kirk called over his shoulder.

'Aye Captain.' replied helmsman.

Nyota rose to her feet, comm units in hand. 'Gaila, I'll be back in a minute.'

There was a muffled noise from under the console that she accepted as acknowledgment before she quickly crossed the bridge to slide into the turbolift beside Spock and Kirk.

She addressed the Captain. She managed to keep her tone civil. 'Sir I have sequenced these to the priority bridge frequency, ship wide address is available under on the secondary frequency and Starfleet Command's direct emergency band is on the third.' she passed Kirk one of them as she explained. 'I've also programmed radio communication into them but the transmitters are weak, the _Enterpise _will need be in close range for us to pick it up. It might be useful if you need to separate on the ship however.'

Kirk seemed impressed. He attached the unit to his belt. 'Good work Lieutenant.'

Nyota ignored him, praise from him was meaningless to her.

She passed Spock his comm as Kirk headed out of the turbolift and towards the transporter room. She let her fingers brush against his as he took the device and focused her thoughts into words.

_/Shall I accompany you to the transporter room?/_

She wasn't sure he would wish her there, if he would allow her to say goodbye to him.

His dark eyes met hers for a moment and she heard his response as clearly as if he'd spoken, as clear and powerful as his thoughts were when his fingers were pressed to her psi points instead of her wrist.

_/Come./_

How he managed to make her heart skip a beat with a single syllable not even _actually _vocalised still amazed her. He stepped out of the lift and she followed a step behind as he and Kirk made their way to transporter room 2.

Kirk's engineer, Scott, who now that he was in uniform she saw was a Lieutenant Commander, sat at the transporter controls.

'How are we Scotty?' Kirk asked. He sounded bizarrely upbeat for a man about to depart on what was most likely a suicide mission.

'Unbelievably sir the ship is in position.' Scotty remarked cheerfully.

She heard Lieutenant Sulu's voice over the comm from the bridge and Kirk stopped at Scotty's side to address him over the intercom. Spock strode past him and onto the transporter pad. Nyota followed as if she was draw after him by a force as irresistible as gravity. He stopped in position and turned to face her.

She slowed, hesitating on the step in front of him. He would not wish her to hug him or kiss him or tell him she loved him – any of the things that she was dying to do, so she wrapped her right hand around her left arm behind her back in an awkward gesture to keep her hands to herself. Absurdly she felt foolish and shy in front of him.

His voice was soft, but drew her attention absolutely. _'K'diwa (beloved).'_

His voice sent a lance of deep emotion shooting through her body like a lightning strike. Her feet had taken her up and into his waiting arms before the last syllable had even died on his lips. Spock's dark eyes held that possessive affection that only she seemed capable of inspiring in him. Ignoring Vulcan custom and professionalism for a moment, Nyota pressed her lips to his and curled her fingers tightly into his uniform. He accepted her kiss without complaint or his usual reserve. For a long, perfect moment he kissed her back, his lips burning warm against hers, and then he pulled away from her to lean his forehead against hers in a more Vulcan expression of physical affection. He formed words and whispered them against her lips in an echo of a kiss._ 'T'nash-veh khrio'ri (my star).'_

As always, Spock' very logical endearment for her - the literal translation of her name into his native tongue - made her smile and sent a warm tendril of affection through her. She tilted her face to his so she could kiss him again. He returned the gesture, his grip on her, one hand on her shoulder, the other at her hip, flexing as he pulled her closer. For a moment she forgot the danger he faced and the people around them and simply basked in his presence.

She was vaguely aware of footsteps as Kirk took his position on the pad opposite, but Spock was kissing her and frankly she didn't care. His head tilted to the side as he deepened the kiss for a moment and Nyota responded eagerly, letting him feel her love and desire for him freely.

All too soon Spock seemed to come at least partially to his senses however. He slid his hand up to cradle the back of neck and pulled out of their kiss. His other hand lifted from her hip to entwine with hers pressed against his chest. She felt the brush of his mind against hers and leant into him, letting him feel the enormity of her love for him. Her thoughts were jumbled, it was hard for her to form clear words within them and when she tried they skipped together as rushed and panicked as that first time she'd spoken to him without words.

_/comebackcomebackyou-must-comeback/_

He replied aloud, in standard and with utter conviction. 'I will be back.'

He made it a statement of fact and Kirk beside them a witness to it. She felt the underlying promise even as it slipped between their fingertips. He had calculated that the odds in their favour were slim but he was telling her they would succeed regardless.

Vulcan's didn't lie.

But she wasn't Vulcan - wasn't above making illogical statements, or in this case threats.

'You'd better be.' she said out loud, pulling back so she could look at him, try and burn his precious face into her fallible human memory. 'I'll be monitoring your frequency.'

'Thank you Nyota.' he replied, and she knew he wasn't referring to her statement about his comm frequency. She leant forward and pressed a final lingering kiss to his lips, letting her fingers slip from his to curl along his jaw. For a moment she paused, pressing against him, and then she gathered herself and turned to leave.

Kirk gave her a confused and decidedly awkward nod. She ignored him, didn't even acknowledge him let alone wish him luck, and headed straight for the door. She did not look back, she didn't need too. She carried Spock with her, in her heart. Parted and never parted. There was no need for goodbyes, he would be back, he'd told her as much. Vulcans didn't lie.

She was approaching the turbolift when she felt the strange pull in her heart as he transported and was suddenly halfway across the solar system. Her steps faltered, but she pushed her disorientation aside and continued down the corridor. He was still there, with her, the distance between them was irrelevant. Then one of the ship alerts sounded.

This time she did stop. She approached the nearest computer station and accessed the alert status, ignoring the crew rushing past her. She couldn't be certain from a general access console, but it looked like the Romulan jamming signal was back. Communications, not that they were operative on their end, were down again, as was the transporter. Spock and Kirk had gotten out just in time, but now they had no way back.

Well. There was nothing she could do from her end. Nyota took a deep breath and aimed for Vulcan calm. It didn't work. Instead she turned and bolted for the bridge skidding around the corners with dangerous speed and nearly colliding with a technician and two other random personnel. In the turbolift she tried the deep breaths once more. When the doors cycled she was able to restrain herself to a 'purposeful stride' as opposed to 'mad dash' as she crossed the bridge.

'Communication and transportation are inoperative.' she informed the crew. 'Sulu, please tell me the sensors are malfunctioning. Otherwise we won't be able to beam them back.' It was unlikely, but she felt better for asking the pointless question.

The Lieutenant cursed and slapped his hand against his console in anger. 'Kirk and Spock are on their own now.' he replied.

Nyota clenched her jaw, trying to calm her fear. She crossed the bridge and joined Gaila at the Communications console. Her Orion friend gave her a commiserating look.

'I _finally_ got the power relay hooked up and was half way through recalibrating the receiver when we got blocked again.' she informed Nyota glumly.

Nyota sighed. 'At least with the changes to the power relay the circuits shouldn't be blown this time.' she pointed out.

'Yeah that's something I guess.' Gaila replied.

With communications down again, this time the issue _not _on their end, there was nothing to distract Nyota from the disturbing things she felt through her bond with Spock. He wasn't scared, but she felt sudden spikes of adrenaline and anxiety from him. Whatever was going on, it was obviously dangerous.

'_Are you okay?'_ Gaila asked in Yrevish five minutes later.

'_I'm fine. Just… worried.'_ she replied.

'_Spock's a badass Ny. He'll be fine.'_ Gaila sounded perfectly confident. Her casual belief in Spock's abilities was actually comforting.

'_Thanks Gaila.'_

Her friend glanced around the bridge. _'I'm going to go down to the officer's lounge and get a coffee.'_

Nyota raised her left eyebrow.

'Um, that is if that's okay? _Lieutenant?_' Gaila added as an afterthought.

Nyota smiled. 'Okay _Ensign. _Get me one while you're down there.'

Gaila gave her a small smile and headed to the turbolift.

A few minutes later Nyota looked up as the lift cycled open once more, but instead of her room-mate a frowning Doctor McCoy entered. He crossed the bridge and stood awkwardly near the Captain's chair. Although Kirk had left Sulu in command, in his and Spock's absence Lieutenant Commander McCoy was the ranking officer aboard (Lieutenant Commander Scott not being an active crew member), and according to regulations was supposed to provide assistance to the acting Commanding Officer. As far as Nyota understood, his presence was meant to lend the authority of superior rank to the junior officer in command. Basically he was to back up Sulu by pulling rank if need be. It was an arrangement he did not seem comfortable with.

He leant against the side of chair in studied nonchalance, but it spun, almost making him loose his balance and he nearly fell to the deck.

Sulu half turned from the helm and regarded him curiously. Chekov was immersed in whatever he was doing at the Navigation console and remained oblivious.

McCoy cleared his throat and turned suddenly to the nearest tactical display with far more interest than it warranted.

Nyota gasped as she felt a strange surge of nervous energy from Spock. She closed her eyes and sat frowning, reaching towards him, trying to get a sense of what was happening without distracting him. He wasn't injured or in immediate danger that she could tell…

Sighing she opened her eyes and found a steaming cup of coffee siting on the console near her. Seeing it she vaguely remembered Gaila talking. According to the nearest computer display she'd been lost in thought for 8 minutes. She glanced around for her Gaila. McCoy was standing stiffly near the command chair and she was leaning against the nearby tactical console and giving the doctor a full dose of Orion charm. The poor man shook his head as if dizzy.

Nyota stood and crossed to stand behind her. _'Ensign U'Aidat.'_ she said, her tone clearly communicating her displeasure.

Gaila turned and gave her an innocent smile. 'Lieutenant Uhura! I was just asking Lieutenant Commander McCoy about his commission.' she gave McCoy a sultry look and fluttered her eyelashes at him. 'He scored so highly on his second year aptitude tests that he got an early placement as a junior medical officer'

'Yes. Aptitude tests… early… placement' he was staring at Gaila with a confused expression on his face. 'You are very… _green_… Ensign.' The emphasis he placed on the word 'green' gave it a whole other meaning.

Gaila giggled.

Nyota grabbed her arm and dragged her away from McCoy.

'_Gaila! I can't believe you! If you don't behave I'll have you escorted off the bridge!'_ she hissed at her in Yrevish.

Gaila pouted. _'He looked so nervous! I was just trying to help him relax.'_

'_He's our Chief Medical Officer, and ranking officer aboard! You can't do that!'_ Gaila's irresponsibility was incredible. _'He needs all his wits!'_

Gaila sighed. _'Fine. I'll behave.'_

Nyota opened her mouth to reply but instead found herself gasping. Spock was reaching towards her. Not in panic or fear…

'Ny? Are you okay?' Gaila asked all evidence of their argument replaced by concern.

Nyota spun away from her and bolted towards the nearest computer. Her fingers flew across the input console. 'Communication and transporter function is back sir!' she called to Sulu in excitement.

'Confirmed Lieute.. Capt… _Sir!' _Chekov exclaimed from his console.

Sulu ignored the ensign's struggle to find the correct way to refer to him and turned to look at Nyota from the helm. 'Can you lock onto Kirk and Spock's comm signatures Lieutenant?'

She and Gaila were already at the Communications console, Gaila finishing her earlier interrupted task recalibrating the receiver so they'd have full subspace communications and Nyota scanning the frequencies of the two communicators she'd given Kirk and Spock. She'd picked up both with intense relief and flagged them so the navigational and transporter systems would be able to track them.

'I've got them sir. Near Earth orbit.' She left the calculation of their precise co-ordinates to Chekov.

'Should we go after them?' McCoy inquired.

'No.' Nyota replied. Sulu shot her a slightly disapproving look at her outburst. 'Sorry sir, but I think Commander Spock's planning something…'

McCoy raised an eyebrow. 'You _think_?'

She reached towards him over their bond. He was definitely doing something… How could she explain that to Lieutenant Sulu though?

'Commander Spock's signature just jumped to co-ordinates 0.27 lightyears away on bearing 289 mark 12.' Chekov informed them from his console.

Spock reached to Nyota with a sudden sense of urgency.

'Go now! He's drawing the Narada away from Earth, he must have the ship Kirk talked about.' Nyota was aware that she was hardly following protocol but she had a terrible feeling Spock was suddenly in great danger.

'Plot a course Chekov.' Sulu said making no comment about her unprofessional demands.

'Done sir!' the ensign replied.

'Raise shields and arm phaser banks and photon torpedoes.' Sulu instructed as his fingers flew over his console. The crew manning the tactical console snapped into action.

'Aye sir.' Chekov responded frantically working at his own display.

Nyota accessed the ship's comm from her station. 'Transporter room!'

'Scott here.' came the response.

'Engaging warp 4.' Sulu informed the bridge. She felt the ship jump to warp.

'Lock onto Spock and Kirk's comm signatures.' she told Lieutenant Commander Scott . Technically she shouldn't be giving the engineer orders, but Sulu was busy at the helm.

'Way ahead of you Lieutenant.' was his reassuring response. 'Been tracking them since you flagged them.'

Less reassuring was what she was feeling from Spock. He's opened himself to her entirely and she knew he was in great danger. She tried to send him love and reassurance that the _Enterprise _was coming, but she couldn't order her thoughts. Nyota turned towards the viewscreen.

Chekov gave a countdown. 'Arriving at co-ordinates in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.'

The_ Narada_ filled the viewscreen like something from a nightmare. A tiny ship was flying in a defensive pattern away from it with a salvo of the Romulan ship's powerful torpedoes tracing after it.

'That's Spock!' she called pointing.

'Fire phasers!' Sulu yelled.

Nyota couldn't breathe. Lines of phaser fire shot out towards Spock and the pursuant torpedoes on an intercept course.

It was only a few seconds, but the time it took for the torpedoes to be taken out was harrowing.

The tiny ship shot out and away from the reaching hulk of the Romulan ship but to Nyota's dismay flipped to head back on a collision course.

She stood staring at the screen in growing horror. She could feel Spock counting down to a collision. He knew the _Enterprise _could transport him, but she sensed he had accepted possible death.

Although Spock' intention was obvious, Sulu still didn't give the order to transport Spock. She could hear an echo of Spock counting down to the collision. 9…8... 7… Communications were back online, Spock could contact the ship and request his transport. Why didn't he?. 6... 5...

She was about to order Scott to transport Spock, orders or not, when Kirk's voice echoed over the Priority bridge frequency. '_Now Enterprise!'_

_4... 3..._

She leapt to her feet and started at a dead run for transporter room 2, McCoy was beside her. 'Medical team to Transporter Room 2!' he barked over the ship's intercom via the turbolift console. Spock's countdown concluded as the turbolift shot down through the ship.

_2... 1..._

She still felt him. He wasn't dead. Scott had locked onto him in time. The path through the white corridors to the transporter room seemed twice as long. Her boots slipped on the shiny black deck as she skidded around corners and the doctor overtook her. Two medical crew in white coats appeared from an adjoining corridor and fell into step beside him.

Spock had already stepped off the transporter pad when she burst into the room behind McCoy and the medics. Her eyes flicked over him head to toe. His hair was slightly mussed but he was unharmed. He wrapped an arm around her, let her give him a hurried and thankful embrace, but she knew he needed to head to the bridge. She restrained herself, pushed down at the nervous, exhilarated, _relief_ flooding her andlet him step away from her. They headed towards the turbolift at a brisk walk as Kirk handed Captain Pike over to McCoy and his medics. Scott called something out behind them but she wasn't paying attention.

Kirk stepped into the lift after them, crowding the space, but she couldn't bring herself to let go of Spock's hand despite his presence.

Gratifyingly Spock did not try to pull his hand from hers. He allowed her the comfort of the connection, letting her bask in the shadow of his mind and the warm comfort of his strong grip until the lift cycled open onto the gleaming bridge. He squeezed her palm slightly, sent her a warm tendril of affection through his fingertips, then released her and strode to the centre of the bridge, Kirk at his side.

Nyota darted back to the communications console were Gaila was just re-establishing contact with Starfleet Command. The two women busied themselves sending out the burst transmissions and downloading the dispatches and communiqués they'd missed whilst they'd been out of contact with command.

Nero's face filled the viewscreen. Spock and Kirk faced him down with a single-minded assuredness that Nyota would never have considered possible mere hours earlier. Amazingly Kirk was the one who showed reason and restraint. Spock seemed unrepentant in a desire to see Nero destroyed. She didn't sense that same rage she'd felt earlier, but a calm and absolute conviction that the Romulan deserved death. It was a sentiment she and pretty much _everyone _on board shared, but not what she had expected to feel mirrored in her Vulcan husband.

Nero responded to Kirk's peaceful overtures with bile however and the acting captain seemed pleased to be able to destroy the Narada with a 'clear conscience' as it were.

The hulking tendrils of the _Narada_ were consumed by the massive singularity Spock's crash had caused, the phaser and photon torpedoes the _Enterprise _bombarded it with merely speeding up the destruction. The grasping spines of the Romulan ship broke apart, almost making the _Narada _resemble an opening flower. Nyota stood and allowed herself to take pleasure in the sight.

The man who'd taken her father from her as collateral damage in the genocide of 6 billion innocents when he destroyed her husband's home world, the man who'd intended to do the same to her own home world, was dying a death of his own creation. It was… satisfying. Poetic. Nero had destroyed Vulcan with a black hole, and now a Vulcan had destroyed him in the same way.

And then the ship was pulled, trapped in the intense gravitational pull of the massive singularity. She felt Spock's mingled alarm and acceptance as he attempted to think of a method to break the hold of the black hole over the ship, but Scott proved his worth yet again as he ejected the warp core to try and free them.

Sulu's hands were flying over the controls as tried to pull them out of the singularity's gravity well. With the warp core ejected he was using only the impulse engines and thrusters. The noise and vibration caused by the straining systems reminded Nyota of the near catastrophic terrestrial launch of the _Enterprise_ some months previously. She hoped the impulse engines had been brought up to full specification since then. Without a warp core the _Enterprise _was reliant on them. All such thoughts were cleared from her mind as the warp core detonated behind them.

Blue-green flame enveloped the ship, filling the viewscreen, Nyota held her breath along with the rest of the crew and then the entire ship jerked as the force of the detonation hit them like a kinetic wave.

They shot forward, free of the flames and the pull of the black hole.

For a few seconds no one spoke, everyone remained tense. When it became apparent they _had _been thrown free of the pull, there was much sighing, smiling and finally laughing.

Nyota felt a strange giddiness. A massive surge of adrenaline was surging through her body at the near brush with death. Her heart was thundering in her chest and she was shaking slightly. The smile that stretched across her face was irrepressible if slightly manic. She glanced over at Spock, he was nodding at Kirk, the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen on his face that hadn't been directed at her.

She wondered if Kirk was aware of just how rare a gift it was to receive such a 'smile' from a Vulcan. Probably not. _Ass._

Beside her Gaila was laughing and bouncing in her seat.

Nyota turned to join her, her own laughter bubbling out of her giddily. Her friend pulled her into an excited hug across the console and they ignored the frantic hails coming across a few dozen frequencies for a few moments.


	8. Chapter 8: Spock

AN: This chapter has given me a lot of grief. I've tried to keep the tone more sombre than it was originally.

* * *

.

**Spock**

Acting Captain James Kirk had behaved in a surprisingly logical and reasonable manner in the immediate aftermath of the destruction of the _Narada._ The orders he gave were far more restrained than Spock would have given him credit for based upon his recent actions. He allowed the crew a few minutes of celebration and relief, but then had them back to work as they made their way back to Earth. Kirk then, of his own volition, retired to the Captain's ready room to contact Starfleet Command directly. There he duly reported as per regulations of all that had occurred since the _Enterprise _had departed Spacedock under the command of Captain Pike.

Kirk had required significant guidance in preparing appropriate reports and logs up to Starfleet guidelines and standards, but he displayed astute discretion in precisely what he included. For instance he made no reference to what would appear to him, unaware as he was of the nature of their association, to be quite blatant evidence of fraternisation between Nyota and himself. His version of the events upon the bridge which led to his assumption of command was also quite masterful in the manner in which it avoided outright fallacies whilst still omitting much of the more personal aspects of their interaction.

Despite the thorough report provided, a succession of Admirals insisted on personal debriefings with Kirk and Spock, who was once again acting as first officer. They had been making their way back through the Sol system under impulse power for 5.8 hours before Spock had found himself free to actually perform his duties once more.

Noting his own fatigue, he swiftly assigned the active crew aboard to standard rotating Alpha and Beta shifts so that they would be able to rest. Feeling how tired Nyota was, he assigned her to the Alpha rotation so she would be able to rest as soon as possible.

When he informed the crew of the shift changes over the intercom, he felt Nyota's displeasure. He was uncertain as to its cause. He thought it might be prudent to request advice from his mother with regards to his wife's current emotional distress before they had the opportunity to speak privately. It was a conversation he was not looking forward to, despite how much he desired Nyota's presence. She had been nothing but supportive of him through out his own emotional upheavals, he wished to provide her the same comfort, not upset her further with his ignorance.

Kirk reappeared from the Captain's ready room. He passed by Nyota's station and remarked loudly in an odd voice, 'Such a shame about those _fried circuits_ Lieutenant. How many _hours _will it be until we have subspace communications again?'

Nyota raised an eyebrow and gave Kirk a look that would have made a lesser, or perhaps more intelligent man, cower. 'We fixed those circuits _sir_.'

'Oh really? I heard they had some sort of…' Kirk paused and waved a hand around in front of his face in a mystifying gesture, '_Delayed _overloading… power… malfunction...' Spock frowned, Kirk's words made no sense. '...Perfectly understandable. Spock tells me you had to repair the circuits by hand? It's a testament to your -'

There was a pointed cough from the Orion Ensign beside Nyota.

'- _and_ Ensign U'Aidat's skill that they lasted so long.'

Nyota crossed her arms and regarded the acting Captain silently for a period of 4 seconds. '_Please _Uhura! Gimme a break here!'

She sighed. 'They _have _been under heavy load for the last few hours. It's not inconceivably one or two of the repaired circuits might fail under the pressure given the hurried nature of our repairs.'

The entire exchange mystified Spock. He glanced at his console. Communications appeared to be active.

'Lieutenant Uhura, according to the ship's computer subspace communications are still active?' he inquired curiously from his station.

Kirk snorted.

Nyota entered a few commands into her console. 'Really sir? According to my console they're down.'

Spock frowned and looked down at his display once more. Sure enough, subspace communications were now down. He raised an eyebrow and shot his wife a pointed look. 'I feel I must remind you Lieutenant, that intentionally sabotaging Starfleet equipment is a court-martial punishable offence.'

Kirk rolled his eyes. 'Spock you kill-joy.'

'Well you'd know more about court-martials than me Commander.' Nyota replied lightly.

Kirk's eyes widened in surprise. 'Oh-ho! Is that so Mr Spock?'

Spock was startled she would make such a flippant reference to his brush with the Admiralty Board over allegations of breaches to four different Starfleet Regulations. Especially since _she _was intimately involved in those breaches. He reached towards her through their bond. She was annoyed at him over something and her exhaustion was making her irritable.

'If the Lieutenant is referring to the incident which I believe she is, I would remind her that it was not in fact, a court-martial and that I was cleared of all accusations.' Spock responded quite sharply.

Kirk threw himself down in his chair, wincing slightly as he jarred some minor injury and spun it so he faced Nyota. 'So Uhura, Spock's actually a bad ass is he?'

'I_ have_ heard him referred to with that turn of phrase, yes.' she responded vaguely.

Spock felt his eyebrow rise before he had the chance to stop it. 'I am familiar with the phrase and do not agree with your assessment that is is applicable to me.' To the best of his knowledge the term referred to a certain mixture of rebelliousness and arrogance. Not things he thought applied to himself.

Kirk spun his chair and tilted his head upside down so he could see Spock. 'I don't know Spock, you seem like a bit of bad-ass to me.'

Spock regarded the man incredulously. A Captain should not drape himself across the command chair in such a manner. There was no specific rule against it, but it was… unseemly.

'Whilst you are entitled to your opinion, I must disagree with you Captain.' he replied. He changed the subject. 'Was Starfleet Command able to give you an estimated arrival time for the maintenance ship with the replacement warp core sir?'

At Spock's inquiry Kirk raised his head and yelled across the bridge towards Nyota in another display of behaviour unbecoming for a commanding officer.

'Uhura!'

'Yes sir?'

'Did you get anything from Command before communications 'failed'?' he asked.'

'Negative sir.' Nyota replied.

Kirk sighed. 'Well then. Fix them for a few minutes would you? We need to know when to expect that ship. Oh! and request some -' he twirled a hand in the hair in a vague gesture, '- circuits or something for the subspace communications console.'

Nyota shot Kirk a look that was very close to a 'glare'. One of her eyebrow was lifted and her lips were slightly pursed. '_Yes sir.'_ she replied.

Shortly afterwards the turbolift cycled and Doctor McCoy entered the bridge.

Kirk gave him a wide smile. 'Bones!'

Doctor McCoy scanned the bridge crew with a frown before settling his attention upon the acting Captain, who was still lying across his chair, his legs over one arm, his head rested on the other. 'Right. You, you, and you.' He pointed at Kirk, Spock and Nyota. 'Are coming with me.'

'Wha? Why?' the Acting Captain protested with his usual eloquence.

'You have all been on active duty for over 36 hours._ You_ Jim Kirk, are in no condition to be in command of a bicycle let alone a Constitution-Class Starship.' McCoy replied.

'Whilst you have a valid point Doctor, I have already established a standard shift rotation. Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov are current resting and are scheduled to provide relief to us at 20:00 hours standard as per regulations.' Spock explained.

'That's all well and good Commander, but not good enough.'

'Bones, I'm _fine._ Nothing's going to happen.' Kirk assured his friend.

'And if something _does_ happen Jim? I'd rather not be under the command of a man who hasn't slept in 43 hours and during those 43 hours has,' he cleared his throat and referred to his PADD;

'Suffered a severe allergic reaction, been rendered unconscious via sedative, been rendered unconscious via weird Vulcan nerve manipulation, been rendered unconscious via Romulan fist, been beamed _twice _by a completely untested transwarp transporter technology - god knows _what_ that's done to you considering poor Admiral Archer's beagle - crash landed in an escape pod and mind melded with a time travelling Vulcan.'

The doctor looked up from his PADD and frowned at the Captain. 'Lord knows what _else_ you've been up to Jim, but you've been concussed at _least _twice and I _know _you have at least one cracked rib.'

Spock had not realised the full extent of James Kirk's injuries. He recalled the wince when the man had sat down and his unusual position in the chair. Cracked ribs would explain both.

'You're exaggerating Bones!' he insisted.

The Doctor threw his hands in the air. 'Maybe! Can't know for sure since you _still_ haven't come down to medbay and let me look you over since your little sojourn on _Delta Vega _let alone the_ Narada_!'

Spock looked at Kirk questioningly. 'Had I been aware of this earlier I would have assigned acting Captain Kirk to the Beta shift.'

At the sound of his voice the doctor rounded upon him and pointed at him accusingly. 'You're just as bad Commander!'

'I assure you Doctor I am perfectly -' Spock began.

'Tell me Commander,' the doctor interrupted him, '… if in my medical opinion the commanding officer of this ship was no longer fit for duty, what, according to Starfleet regulations would I be required to do?'

'According to regulation 287 you would be obligated to -' Spock began to reply before being interrupted again, by Kirk this time.

'Fine! I'm coming.' He stood and glared at Bones. 'You're a hard ass, you know that Bones?'

Spock noted the use of yet another odd Terran colloquialism that made reference to backsides.

'Spock, Uhura, you heard the man.' Kirk continued.

Spock grudgingly got to his feet. 'Sir I do not believe it appropriate to leave the bridge without the supervision of at least one of the senior staff.'

'Way ahead of you.' McCoy replied. He walked to the captain's now vacant chair and addressed the intercom. 'Engineering. Scott! Get up here and take the con while I patch up the Captain and Spock.' Since Lieutenant Commander Scott was not technically one of the _Enterprise's _command crew he should not really be left in command, however he was acting Chief Engineer and Spock supposed the most capable of those available.

'Aye… Doctor?' the engineer replied in confusion.

Kirk rolled his eyes then glanced around the bridge. 'Ensign U'Aidat, you have the con until Lieutenant Commander Scott gets up here.'

The Orion woman's eyes widened in shock and she smiled expressively. '_Yes_ sir!'

She crossed the bridge at a near run to take the command chair, and spun it as soon as she sat down. Spock followed McCoy and Kirk into the turbolift, Nyota trailing behind him.

The decks between the bridge and Medbay were quieter than they had been earlier now that half the crew were on assigned rest periods. The medbay itself was still just as busy.

Makeshift gurneys and biobeds had been set up everywhere there was the room for one. Doctor McCoy led them towards his examination room. Two additional biobeds had been set up next to the original one, and both were occupied. McCoy glanced at the readings of the two patients, both of whom were Vulcan and clearly civilians. Their presence surprised Spock.

McCoy seemed to notice and remarked, 'We picked up a few Vulcans from the wreckage above the planet while you were down there getting the council.' Spock recalled the conversation he had had with McCoy with regards to his intention to beam survivors aboard but he had not given it further thought. It was good that the doctor had taken the initiative, the other survivors had been lost to the gravity well of the singularity. 'These two were scientists of some sort on a science vessel. Burns, nasty ones, but Doctor M'Benga says they'll be fine once they snap outta their healing trance thingy.'

He turned to regard them. 'Okay, Uhura, you first since I'm guessing you're gonna complain the least.'

'Yes Doctor.' Nyota replied and dutifully sat up on the bed.

'Lie down, I'll take a full scan.'

His wife did as directed.

McCoy took a reading and looked at her vitals. 'Well, you're dehydrated, you _clearly _haven't eaten anything in almost 48 hours and you're exhausted. So basically you're in the same boat as 90% of the people on board.'

'Doctor, forgive me, but are those not quite unusual brain patterns for a human?' Spock inquired staring at Nyota's readings.

'Odd that _you're _asking _me _about that.' the doctor replied cryptically.

Nyota sighed. 'I'm fine Spock.' Spock made a note to speak to her of the scan at a later date.

Kirk glanced around the room awkwardly. 'Um, should we give Uhura some privacy?'

'No I'm done. Aren't I doctor?' Nyota asked.

'Eat something, drink as much water as you can stomach and when you come off shift _sleep - _doctor's orders.'

'Yes sir.' Nyota replied.

'Spock you next.' McCoy said.

With only a slight sigh Spock lifted himself up onto the biobed in Nyota's place and reclined so that the doctor could take a reading.

'Okay, same deal for you Commander. Food, water and rest. And before you say anything _yes _I know Vulcan's can go longer than humans without sleep, but I still want you do go sit in the corner for a few hours and think about maths or whatever it is Vulcan's do okay?'

'Very well doctor.' Spock replied diplomatically.

'Jim, your turn.'

Kirk got onto the bed rather stiffly. Spock suspected the doctor's suspicion with regards to his ribs was correct. 'Okay wave your little magic wand over me Bones.'

'No. Full scan. Lie down.' the doctor said.

Kirk sighed but did as told.

McCoy made a 'hmmph' noise of displeasure as the readings appeared on the display. '_Two_ cracked ribs, a mild concussion, _internal bleeding - _you've got a punctured lung you idiot Jim! What the hell were you doing staying up there on the bridge gossiping with the hobgoblin and his girlfriend here?'

Spock ignored both the 'hobgoblin' and 'girlfriend' reference. 'Indeed Mr Kirk, your injuries are far more serious than you had led me to believe.' he remarked.

Nyota peered closer at the reading and frowned. 'Does he have a ruptured spleen as well?' Spock looked at the display she was indicating. She appeared to be correct.

The doctor cursed. 'Goddammit Jim! I'm gonna have to give you a transfusion. You've been bleeding internally for hours. I could have patched you up easy as pie six hours ago! Stop making my job so difficult!'

Kirk smiled. 'You know how I feel about needles Bones.'

'Just for that I'm gonna give you extra.' the doctor threatened darkly before turning to glance between Spock and Nyota. 'This is going to take a while. You two go eat and get plenty of fluids. Commander Spock I'm gonna trust your judgement that you're fine to finish your shift as rostered. Uhura you're already on downtime so go get some sleep.'

'Very well doctor. Please keep me informed of the acting Captain's status.' Spock said.

'Yeah yeah.' came the distracted response.

Spock followed Nyota from the crowded sickbay and back towards the corridors leading to the turbolift. 'Which refectory would you prefer to obtain sustenance from Nyota?' Spock inquired quietly.

'I was thinking I'd just get something from the replicator in my quarters. I don't feel like talking to anyone.' She sighed. 'I suppose I should go and see my mother before I do anything though.' They entered the turbolift. Spock requested the deck containing the officer's accommodation.

'I am certain your mother would welcome your presence, but she would not wish you to forgo much needed rest to speak with her. Perhaps you could see her before your next shift after you are refreshed?'

'That's a good idea.' she Nyota replied with a yawn. The lift cycled open.

Spock followed her out into the empty corridor. The crew assigned quarters nearby were either inside asleep or at their stations.

'Oh! I didn't check to see if I'd been assigned a bed.' Nyota remarked.

Spock raised an eyebrow. 'You are of course, welcome to rest in mine Nyota.'

She avoided looking at him. 'I know, I just didn't want to assume… I thought you might like to be alone, or be worried about what people would think.'

Spock triggered the door to the first officer's quarters. 'I have no desire to be separated from you Nyota and there is no one nearby to observe us.' Besides which he had _kissed_ her in front of the Acting Captain and Chief Engineering earlier.

Without further comment Nyota slipped inside. Once the door cycled closed she exhaled and seemed almost to crumple. 'I am _so_ tired.'

'Sit. I will order something from the replicator and eat with you before I return to the bridge.' Spock said.

With another sigh she collapsed onto the couch in the seating area and tugged her boots and socks off before bringing her legs up beside her and curling up against one of the arms. Spock ordered one of her favoured meals, a Kenyan kale based dished, and a large glass of water. He placed it on the small table in front of the couch of her.

'Thank you adun.' she mumbled from where she had buried her face against her arm.

Spock ordered the same meal for himself. It was a palatable enough dish and he did not desire any particular food. When he took a seat beside her she still had not started on her meal. He could feel how tired she was through their bond. It had increased exponentially since they'd entered his quarters 3.2 minutes previously.

'Nyota, you must eat.' he remarked.

She made a groaning noise by way of response but did not move.

'Nyota. You are de-hydrated and you're readings indicated very low glucose levels in your blood. You require sustenance.'

Instead of responding she turned and curled herself up on the couch so her head rested in his lap. 'I require sleep. And you.' She sighed against his thigh. 'Mmm. Warm… I'll eat… later.'

Spock blinked and looked down at her. He could tell she had every intention of simply going to sleep on him. She was reaching towards him through their bond in a sleepy unconscious desire to be closer to him. He reached down and skimmed his fingers over her face in a gentle caress. She hummed in pleasure but made no other movement. 'I must return to the bridge soon.' he reminded her.

She made a huffing noise but offered no further acknowledgement. He sensed her irritation and suddenly realised the cause of her earlier displeasure. She had not liked that he had assigned her to a different shift to him. Although it was logical since he did not require sleep as much as the rest of the crew and should therefore take the later shift, he understood her displeasure. He would endeavour to rectify the oversight. For the moment however he wanted her to eat.

'If you eat your meal I will remain for an additional ten minutes after I finish my own and lie beside you until you are asleep.' He felt odd making such an offer or bargain, but his wife appeared to find it tempting. In short order she sat and regarded him blearily, blinking very slowly and very often.

'Okay Mr Spock you've got yourself a deal.' she replied.

By the time Spock finished his bowl Nyota had eaten ¾'s of her own, which was normal for her - it had been a large serving for a human - and refilled her glass and drained it. The moment Spock declared his meal finished through careful placement of his cutlery she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head against his shoulder. 'Take me to bed?' she inquired.

Obligingly Spock carefully gathered her in his arms and took her to the small adjoining sleeping room.

'The bed is unmade.' he remarked eyeing the mattress.

'Don't care.' came the sleepy response from the vicinity of his left bicep.

Spock laid her down on the bare mattress and scanned the room for linen. He felt her vague displeasure. _'You promised.'_ she said. In her exhausted state she had reverted to Swahili.

Clearly she suspected he did not intend to fulfil his part of their bargain.

'_I am merely looking for the bedding.'_ he responded mildly in the same language.

'_Don't care. Come here. Nice warm Vulcan husband keep me….'_ her sentence was interrupted by a yawn, _'… warm.'_

Giving up in his search Spock removed his boots and joined her on the too-small mattress. Nyota instantly shifted and melded herself around him, one long leg hooked over his thigh, her right arm wrapped around his chest and her face buried against his side. She had pulled her hair down and Spock sunk the fingers of his left hand into the inky strands. Nyota sighed in contentment as he cradled the back of her head and pulled her into his arms. She was reaching towards him through their bond.

Spock allowed himself to relax entirely for the first time in many hours. He closed his eyes and entwined their fingers so that their thoughts could brush against each other even as he reached back towards her through their marriage bond. Nyota was nearly asleep, her mind a blur streaked with sadness over her father and Vulcan, but it was still comforting to share such closeness to her after all that had occurred since they'd departed Earth 37.8 hours earlier. He felt utterly relaxed. Physically he was comfortable, the bed underneath them soft and Nyota's body warm were she pressed against him. The other part of him, his mind, his katra, his human 'soul' whatever it could be called, was equally soothed at her presence. She was safe and alive and in his arms.

In this small way at least, all was right and as it should be.

Spock focused on the present, not letting his thoughts wander darker paths. Something lurked there. This was not permanent. This happiness and contentment, it would not last. The reason tried to leap from his subconsciousness to the forefront of his mind but he pushed it back. He would not think of it yet. He would allow himself as long as possible in blissful peace beside his _k'diwa._

Her presence made it easier for Spock to dismiss the turmoil of Nero and Vulcan and all else that plagued his thoughts. The emptiness deep inside. The silence of the _k'war'ma'khon._ He counted his breaths, adjusted his heart rate and cleared his mind and fell into a light meditative state as she slept beside him. Ten minutes passed. Nyota shifted and hummed in disapproval as he extracted himself from her. Disjointed sleepy thoughts reached him across their fingers as he gently released her.

_/nostayspock/_

Even though he had specifically said he would only stay ten minutes, knew that Lieutenant Commander Scott was ill suited to sit in the Captain's chair whilst Kirk and the other command officers were unavailable, he hesitated.

Denying Nyota anything was a test of his will. In compromise he bent and brushed a kiss against her cheek and another to her brow, illogical human gestures of affection, before he pulled himself to his feet.

He stepped into the small bathroom and washed his face before setting the shower to sonic and stepping in fully clothed.

His uniform was cleaner when he emerged, though still torn in a few places. He would obtain a replacement later. He pulled on his boots once more and silently regarded Nyota for 14 seconds as she lay curled upon the bed. Her dark skin, black hair and red uniform contrasted starkly against the white of the mattress. Judging from the manner in which she was resting, Spock deduced that Nyota was cold. Looking around the room he noted an additional locker he had not searched earlier and discovered bedding within. Nyota mumbled something when he draped a blanket over her and half awoke when he slid a pillow under her head. Again Spock fought the desire to slip in beside her, to remain with her, but with no other tasks to warrant further procrastination in his quarters, Spock turned and left.

Lieutenant Commander Scott was sitting in the command chair reviewing a PADD of reports on the repairs his engineering crews were working on throughout the ship.

'Commander!' he greeted Spock enthusiastically. 'How's the Captain?'

'Two cracked ribs, a concussion, a punctured lung and a ruptured spleen. Dr McCoy implied it would be several hours before he was fit to leave medbay and I do not anticipate the doctor will deem him fit for duty in time for the next shift.' Spock responded.

Scott shook his head in disbelief. 'I've only known him, what, a day? But that man sure is a stubborn one isn't he?'

'In accurate assessment Lieutenant Commander.' Spock agreed.

'You and your lovely Lieutenant are A-okay though?' he asked peering up at Spock, 'No side effects to the transwarp beaming? Dizziness, nausea, hallucinations?'

Spock raised an eyebrow at the man's use of a possessive pronoun in reference to Nyota but did not offer complaint, it was accurate after all and Vulcan's did not lie. Nyota _was_ his, was in fact, asleep in his bed at that very moment. For this reason he ignored the comment. 'I have suffered no ill effects and am otherwise uninjured, and Lieutenant Uhura will be fit for her next rostered shift.'

The engineer nodded and got to his feet. 'Good to hear! Well I've got lots to do in Engineering - want to have everything ready for when the maintenance ship with the warp core gets here - so I'll leave the big chair to you Commander.' His manner of signing off authority over the ship was hardly in keeping with standard protocol. Perhaps sensing Spock's disapproval the man added, 'Err - the con is yours Commander Spock?' by way of clarification.

'Thank you Lieutenant Commander.' Spock replied.

The engineer nodded and gave him a smile before heading to the turbolift.

Spock took his seat and began going over the ship's current status. Noting that subspace communications were still out, he addressed Ensign U'Aidat who was acting as Nyota's relief. 'Ensign.'

'Yes sir?' she inquired.

'Please effect immediate repairs upon subspace communication.'

'Yes sir. Should only take a minute.' Even as she spoke the Orion's hands were flicking over the console undoing whatever subtle sabotage Nyota had affected earlier at Kirk's behest.

38 seconds later she winced and pulled her earpiece off. Spock could hear static from it from across the bridge. Ensign U'Aidat sighed and turned towards him. 'We have 68 unanswered hails and 17 communiqués Sir.' Though Spock attempted to keep his irritation off his face, something must have shown. 'Looks like Kirk's hour of peace and quiet is gonna cost you three or four of tedious conversation with Command sir.'

'Indeed. Forward the Communiqués to my console, send Command an update on our status and send standardised automated responses to the unanswered hails.' he instructed.

'Yes sir.'

Spock did indeed spent the next 3.2 hours dealing with Starfleet Command. It took effort for him, even with long engrained Vulcan control of his emotions, to remain polite in the face of such tedious and pointless conversation. When Lieutenant Sulu, Ensign Chekov and Nyota appeared for the Alpha shift, he was tempted to give the con to Sulu simply to avoid dealing with Starfleet Command further. It would not be illogical to go check on the ship's repairs in person on the Engineering deck. Lieutenant Commander Scott might appreciate his assistance he told himself. He was most probably far more familiar with the ship's systems and specifications than the Chief Engineer owing to his role in overseeing its construction.

Nyota favoured him with a small smile as she passed him to relieve Ensign U'Aidat and take her seat at the communications console. Like Sulu and Chekov, she appeared to have showered and replicated herself a new uniform. She shifted slightly in her seat and pulled at the neck of her undershirt. It did not fit her as well as her usual clothing and he knew that she found replicated material to be 'scratchy' – illogical as it had an identical molecular structure to 'real' cotton.

Spock realised that a trip to Engineering would rob him of the pleasant side effects of having Nyota in the same vicinity to him, namely her shapely figure in his peripheral vision and the sound of her voice as she spoke into her head piece. That little voice of reason, one he could not bring himself to listen to yet, was reminding him again that such simple pleasures might soon be relegated to memory only.

Spock remained on the bridge for the full duration of the Alpha shift.


	9. Chapter 9: Nyota

**Nyota**

Despite her intention to see her mother before her next shift, Nyota's exhaustion had caused her to oversleep. She had awoken with only just enough time to shower and replicate herself an uncomfortable lieutenant's uniform and horrid regulation underwear. She'd quickly downed a cup of coffee and a small bowl of bland food cubes - too rushed to program something more edible from the replicator – and made her way back to the bridge.

She'd been able to sense Spock clearly when she awoke, absorbed in something on the bridge above her, and the fact that he was no longer blocking their bond, even partially, reassured her. They had yet to actually_ talk_ about all that had occurred and Nyota felt an odd sense of dread about doing so. Spock's words on the bridge after they'd left Vulcan haunted her. _'I am a member of an endangered species.'_ There was some import to the sentiment, some meaning that scared her. She forcefully pushed it aside and made herself instead remember the way Spock had held her hours earlier as she lay down to sleep.

There had been no distance between them, he had not pulled from her embrace with either his body or his mind. There was no need for her to over-analyse their relationship. Whatever occurred, _they _would remain a constant. They were bonded, married. _K'hat'n'dlawa_. Nothing would change that.

Despite her thoughts, Nyota found herself doubting the future of their relationship for the first time since Spock's return to Earth from the _Nelson_. There was something…

Spock's eyes met her own as she entered the bridge and she felt nothing from him save satisfaction at seeing her. A smile bloomed on her face before she could smoother it with a façade of professionalism. The left corner of his mouth twitched in infinitesimal response and her strange sense of foreboding with regards to him evaporated like fog under bright sunshine.

Communications were a mess. Gaila had been busy over the last shift, but there was still a massive backlog. The official communications log was more or less clear, all hails and communiqués logged and responded to, but a huge number of personal and civilian communications remained unresolved. The volume of both incoming and outgoing communications far exceeded their frequency bandwidths and the excess had been relegated to an ever increasing stockpile. Nyota had to painstakingly approve batches, and in some cases, individual messages.

She focused on the outgoing messages first, aware that most would be messages from personnel informing family and friends that they were alive. However she had to run analysing and encryption software over the outgoing messages to ensure the crew didn't reveal any of the information Starfleet did not want shared with the public yet - namely suspected time travel and details of the advanced weaponry and technology the Romulans had possessed.

She worked through her shift without stopping for a meal break, Spock's distraction as he oversaw the repairs of the ship working to her advantage in this - usually he would have demanded to know why she had not obtained 'sustenance'. As such when Gaila and Kirk appeared for Beta shift she'd managed to clear the backlog almost entirely.

She observed her friend and the Captain with interest. Gaila wasn't flirting, but she wasn't glaring either. It appeared Kirk's gesture in giving her temporary command of the ship while they went to medbay had placated her anger at him. Maybe Kirk wasn't as dumb as he appeared.

However, he was going to have to do a lot more then let her sit in the Captain's Chair for five minutes if he wanted _her _forgiveness. What he'd done to Spock... the things he'd said about her _papa..._ She clenched her jaw and avoided looking him as she headed off the bridge.

She joined Sulu and Chekov in the turbolift and sent Spock a tendril of wordless query. In response she felt his intention to retire to his quarters soon. Satisfied, she turned her attention to the two officers beside her.

'The room I got assigned is tiny. I can barely turn around in the shower, I almost broke my elbow reaching for a toothbrush this morning.' Lieutenant Sulu complained.

'You got your own room? I am sharing a dorm with 5 engineers on deck 18.' Chekov replied with transparent jealously. 'I had to use the communal showers before my shift.'

Sulu smirked slightly. 'Advantages of age and rank ensign.'

Chekov rolled his eyes.

'I think it's more dumb luck Lieutenant.' Nyota remarked. 'We're pretty over crowded. Gaila was assigned a diplomatic stateroom to share with another ensign. Double beds and two bathrooms with water settings in the showers.' Nyota said.

The lieutenant frowned.

'I wonder if Ensign U'Aidat would allow me to utilise the facilities in her room?' Chekov wondered aloud.

'I doubt she'd mind, you're on opposite shifts.' Nyota replied.

Sulu elbowed him in the side. 'If you're lucky she might offer to share some other facilities too Chekov.' he teased.

Chekov looked utterly scandalised and mortified. Nyota smiled and rolled her eyes. She joined the two men for a hurried meal in the officer's lounge on the deck below the bridge. The superficial conversation they shared was a welcome distraction from her own thoughts. She could feel Spock above her on the bridge, talking with Kirk no doubt, and she decided to go and see her mother before she could use him as an excuse to put it off once more.

The trip to her mother's stateroom was over far too quickly.

When she'd last seen her almost two days previously, she'd been a sobbing wreck. Nyota half expected to find her in the same state.

Instead Tamu was neatly dressed in simple replicated clothing, sitting sedately with Lady Amanda and drinking tea.

Nyota paused in the doorway for a moment in surprise.

'Nyota!' her mother exclaimed in pleasure rising to her feet. Nyota found herself wrapped in a tight embrace and given a thorough cheek kissing. 'I'm so glad you are alright! Have you slept? Eaten? You must be _exhausted.'_

She took Nyota's hand and tugged her over to the seating area and onto a couch beside her. Lady Amanda gave her a warm smile.

'Yes mama. I've just finished a shift but I stopped and ate on the way.'

'You were_ still_ on shift?' Lady Amanda inquired in apparent disapproval.

'We've been assigned standard shift rotations, I've already had one rest period since…' Nyota trailed off unaware of what to call the destruction of the _Narada._ A battle? No. That sounded wrong, it implied the earlier destruction above and upon Vulcan was part of a two-sided conflict instead of the act of terrorism and genocide it was.

Lady Amanda needed no clarification of course. She nodded. 'That's good. Sarek informs me Captain Pike will make a full recovery, but the young acting Captain – he is unharmed?'

'Kirk's fine. No thanks to himself of course.' Nyota frowned. 'Doctor McCoy had to literally drag him off the bridge. The idiot was up there with broken ribs and a punctured lung pretending he was fine.'

'Oh dear.' Lady Amanda remarked, her surprise at Nyota's casual insubordination apparent. She supposed she ought to clarify lest Spock's mother think she was disrespectful. Although she was pretty sure if Amanda had realised what Kirk had done to Spock... well, obviously Sarek hadn't shared that in any detail or else Spock's mother would most likely be calling Kirk things a lot more colourful than idiot'.

'Jim Kirk is in several of my classes at the Academy. He's something of a stubborn hot head, though undoubtedly gifted at times.' she admitted grudgingly. Being diplomatic in her assessment of him was difficult.

'I believe Spock may have mentioned him once. A cadet who impressed him in a simulation of some sort?'

Nyota thought back to Kirk's second attempt at the Koyabashi Maru. 'That would be him, though he thoroughly ruined Spock's good opinion of him when he used a virus to 'win' that same simulation the next time he faced it.'

Lady Amanda laughed. 'Yes, such _creative_ thinking would be highly at odds with Spock's logic.'

Nyota was unsure how what to say next. She hadn't actually been introduced to Spock's mother, though they'd had brushing encounters since Spock had beamed back from Vulcan with her. Lady Amanda seemed to be having similar thoughts.

'Well, it's good to finally meet you properly Nyota.' she said warmly if slightly awkwardly.

'Yes, I'd been looking forward to meeting you too Lady Amanda.' Nyota replied.

'Just Amanda, please.'

Nyota nodded. The room was silent for a long moment.

'Well. This is rather awkward.' Tamu pronounced. 'A grieving widow and some newly acquainted in-laws.' She paused. 'I suppose we can be thankful that neither of your Vulcans are in attendance to make this even more painful.'

Nyota felt herself smile at her mother's comment. Lady Amanda laughed shortly and covered her mouth as she did so, as if worried someone would see her.

'I have often remarked that although Sarek doesn't have a way with words, he does have a way with silences.' she rose to her feet. 'And speaking of my husband, I should return to him.'

Tamu and Nyota made their farewells and Spock's mother left the cabin for her own.

Nyota returned to her seat and sat silently beside her mother for a time, holding her hand. She knew that they needed to speak of their shared sorrow, but she was loathe to bring that pain up from where Spock had helped her hide it away deep inside her. Denial was an addictive, easy thing.

Tamu had several PADDs and a portable computer console set up on the coffee table in front of them. Nyota glanced at them curiously. They offered a welcome alternative to the conversation they should be having. 'What are you working on mama?'

'Oh. Already there has been a massive outpouring of offers of aid for the surviving Vulcans from earth. As Ambassador I will be seeing that they are dealt with appropriately. It will be difficult, the Vulcan government was nearly completely wiped out. The High Council survives more or less intact thanks to Spock, but Vulcan High Command was wiped out to a soul with Shi'Kahr. The Councillors will need to elect a new Command Board, but first they need to know who of the high clans survives.' she sighed. 'For the moment Amanda is helping me ensure offers of aid end up more or less with the people who can see they are appropriately utilised. Sarek of course will be involved, but at the moment he has duties other than those as Ambassador to Earth to concern himself with.'

'He is one of few _S'haile_ remaining I assume?' Nyota asked.

'Yes. The lords and matriarchs of the high clans rarely left their lands on Vulcan, most are lost. Amanda thinks Sarek will most likely need to serve in High Command as well as on the Council for a time at least.'

A terrible and selfish thought occurred to Nyota. 'And Spock?' He was a hybrid, but with their ranks so depleted, perhaps that would no longer seem so distasteful to the Vulcans.

Tamu frowned. 'I know Amanda wishes for him to remain in Starfleet, and I think Sarek does too. However, if there is need of him… Sarek will not spare him simply because he is his son. If some duty is required of him, he will be expected to do it regardless of personal feelings on the matter.'

There it was. That nagging foreboding she'd been feeling. Of course. Spock was nothing if not honourable. If his decimated race required some service of him, he would complete it, regardless of any personal suffering it might cause him. Or her. She would expect no less of him.

'Yes. And he will do it.' she replied sadly. 'I only hope they do not ask too much of him.'

Her mother squeezed her hand. 'What is the worse that could happen Nyota? Spock serving in Vulcan High Command? Your careers delayed? That is not so terrible.'

Not so terrible as what her mother faced. Her husband was dead. What was losing your career in comparison to that? Nyota took a deep breath. 'You're right of course mama. I am being dramatic.'

Tamu nodded. 'You'll be fine. You'll find happiness regardless of where you end up, be it Starfleet or elsewhere. Lady Amanda made herself a comfortable life as wife to a Vulcan S'haile after all, and you are far more suited to such a life than a teacher from Seattle.'

Nyota took reassurance in her mother's reasoning. 'Thank you mama.' She gave her a hug. 'I came here to cheer you up, and instead you have cheered me up.'

Tamu sighed against Nyota hair.

Nyota squeezed her tighter, wordlessly expressing her love for her mother.

The door chimed. Nyota felt a twinge of query from within.

'It's Spock.' Nyota informed her mother softly only half pulling from her embrace. 'Do you want me to send him away?'

Tamu shook her head. 'No No.' she cleared her throat. 'Enter!'

The door slid open and Spock stepped inside. His dark eyes focused on Nyota's for a moment before they slid across to her mother's.

'_Okosu Tamu. Tushah nash-veh k'odu (Lady Tamu. I grieve with thee).'_

Her mother inclined her head, accepting Spock's sentiment. Nyota noted that instead of using the informal familial version of the phrase as Sarek had earlier when he had offered her his condolences, he had used the most formal, honouring her mother as a superior in rank.

'Thank you Spock.' Tamu replied in standard. 'I know you were fond of Zuberi, as he was of you.'

Spock frowned slightly. 'I find the term 'fond' to be inaccurate for the regard in which I held your husband.'

Tamu looked up at him in surprise. Nyota herself was surprised to hear Spock talk in such a manner.

'_Ish-veh vesh'pi'maat t'nash-veh (He was family to me).'_

It was no small thing for Spock to say such a thing about her father. It implied a level of respect and affection that a Vulcan could not admit to feeling for anyone not of their family. To hear him claim such feelings for her father both pleased her and threatened to wake the sorrow buried deep within her.

Judging from the manner in which her mother was rapidly blinking to stave of tears, she was equally touched.

'Forgive me Tamu, it was not my intention to upset you.' Spock said. Nyota could feel how uncomfortable he was. Incredibly uncomfortable. 'I will leave you.'

'No Spock.' Tamu called. 'Don't leave. You haven't upset me. I am glad you came.' Her mother cleared her throat. 'I wish to make it clear to you, as I have already your mother, that the only person I hold responsible for Zuberi's death is Nero.'

Spock blinked but did not otherwise react. Nyota knew he blamed himself though he attempted to hide it. He could be quite transparent for all his Vulcan façade.

'From what I have heard, you personally ensured that not only will no others suffer the fate of my husband and all those lost with Vulcan, but that Nero found death by the same means he dealt it. Consumed in a blackhole. ' Tamu's tears dried as she spoke of Nero, her hatred plain.

'This is accurate' Spock agreed.

'Good. Perhaps it is not noble, but it's a comfort to me to know he got what he deserved.' she replied, her tone hinting at a viciousness Nyota had rarely glimpsed in her.

'I likewise find the outcome… satisfactory.' Spock agreed.

Nyota looked up at him in shock. Whatever she had expected from a conversation between her mother and her husband, it certainly wasn't them bonding dry-eyed over their mutual satisfaction at Nero's demise. Spock had just more or less admitted to being glad Nero was dead, to taking revenge. Such sentiment was clearly against the teachings of Surak.

_Do no harm to those that harm you._

_The spear in the other's heart is the spear in your own._

He met her gaze evenly. 'Although Surak teaches us the merit of peace, of pacifism, in this instance I find I take more after my mother's people than my father's. The destruction of Vulcan, the murder of 6 billion. For these crimes, Nero deserved his fate. I find do not regret my actions.'

Tamu nodded in agreement. 'I'm not sure I could have borne a trial.'

Nyota had not considered that alternative outcome. If Nero had been taken into custody, his trial would have been long and messy. Difficult for all of those who'd lost something to the madman. And politically - would the Romulans have made demands on his behalf? She imagined that to many of them he was already considered a hero. It was conceivable that the already delicate peace between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire would have collapsed completely under the pressure of a trial.

Her mother's computer beeped with an incoming communication. Tamu glanced at it. 'I should take this...' She looked up at Nyota and Spock. '… and you two should both go and rest.'

Nyota gave her a brief hug and kissed her cheek before rising to stand beside Spock.

Her mother waved at them as she accepted her call. Nyota heard a greeting in American accented standard as she and Spock left.

'You have eaten Nyota?' Spock inquired as they made their way towards the nearest turbolift.

'Yes, I had something with Sulu and Chekov earlier.' she remarked.

She felt a strange emotion from their bond at her statement. 'What is it?' she inquired.

'It is merely that the speed with which humans develop friendships continues to astound me.' he did indeed sound surprised, but there was something else.

Nyota smiled as she sensed slight jealousy from him. '_You_ don't like the thought of me sharing a meal with two handsome young officers do you Commander Spock?'

He raised an eyebrow at her as if her accusation was completely implausible, which only made her smile wider.

'I am not jealous Nyota.' Spock replied.

'Oh really?' Nyota turned to face him and ran a finger along the line of his shoulder. 'You might be human in other ways, but where I am concerned you have always been _delightfully _Vulcan.'

'Your implication is illogical. If your statement is accurate, since Vulcan's do not feel jealousy, it makes no sense.' he pointed out with his usual detachment.

'Vulcans are territorial and possessive of their mates. Jealousy is therefore implicit.' Nyota countered smugly as the lift cycled opened on Deck 4 and they made their way towards Spock's quarters.

'Perhaps. However, such jealousy where you are concerned would still be illogical.' he replied.

She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow in sceptical query.

He gave her a look that captured the spirit of her earlier remarks about the territorial and possessive nature of his race remarkably. 'Since you are _mine_.' he clarified.

He hadn't used that particular tone of voice since they'd left San Francisco. It had the same effect upon her as always. A bolt of heat shot through her body. She was suddenly both too warm and too cold at the same time. It was a task of monumental effort to turn away from him, put one foot in front of another and continue down the corridor. She triggered the door to his quarters. As soon as she heard the noise of it closing behind him she gave up pretence of restraint. She'd barely touched him in three days. Sure he'd lain with her for a few minutes after her last shift, but she'd been so exhausted she'd been barely conscious.

Intense desire and heat flooded their bond, destroying whatever reason remained. She was standing on her toes, pressed against him, her fingers in his hair and fisted in his uniform, pulling him against her without conscious thought. Spock's arms were wrapped around her, one at her hips the other between her shoulder blades. The warmth of his touch seeped through her uniform.

How long had passed? A second? Two? It felt as if she'd been standing before him, waiting for his kiss for an eternity. She could feel her heartbeat, the thrum of blood pulsing in her veins like distant drums. A wordless pleading noise escaped her. Spock had that ability. She was a linguist fluent in dozens of languages, and yet he could rob her of the ability to speak.

He kissed her, all heat and sharp Vulcan teeth. The pleading noise became a moan as she returned his attentions ardently, turning her head to the side so she could fit her mouth more firmly against his. Her stress and confused emotions suddenly had an outlet. She kissed him in a virtual frenzy, biting and scratching at him. She wrapped a leg around him, pressing herself against him, wanting him closer closer closer. His hand shifted from her hip to her thigh, sliding up against her skin to curl around her backside and pull her against him. The beating pulse of her blood was now centred between her thighs. She felt that mad feverish desire that only Spock could evoke within her. She shoved a hand under his uniform just so she could touch his skin. She didn't just want him, she _needed _him. As soon as possible. Right now.

Nyota made no attempt to keep her lust from him, let it flow from her very skin and into his fingers where he touched her. He seemed content to kiss her for the moment however, his tongue twisting against hers, his teeth catching slightly at her lips. She pulled her mouth from his and he made one of those gloriously alien noises of his, a low growl, in displeasure.

When Nyota pressed her lips against his neck and let her teeth scrape his skin the growl became something closer to a purr. It was a wonderful noise. She bit him lightly so he'd repeat it as her hand started pulling his uniform up. She had to pull away for a moment so the blue uniform and black undershirt could be tossed aside. Eagerly she pressed her hands against his skin, exalting in the incredible heat of him, but he pulled away. It took a second for her to realise what he was doing, but then she raised her arms obligingly so he could pull her uniform over her head. A _very_ good idea.

The black undershirt and her hideous replicated bra followed suit. Her panties were ignored as her attention was torn between eager exploration of his torso and what that felt like pressed against her bare skin, kissing him, and distracted attempts at removing his trousers one-handed.

He wasn't helping matters, his hands and mouth proving even more distracting. She felt dizzy with want, could feel herself shaking slightly with adrenaline and nervous energy. Spock's warm hands smoothed over her skin managing impossibly to both to soothe and inflame her at the same time. How he could remain so _calm_ when she'd lost the ability to form words or coherent thought frustrated her. It wasn't fair. To that end, she focused and managed, finally, to get the fastening of his trousers undone. She slipped a hand inside the material and wrapped her fingers firmly around him even as she dug the nails of her other hand into his back and bit him, hard, on the shoulder.

Just as she had anticipated, her actions elicited a very specific and quite instinctual response in her Vulcan husband. The purr became a snarl and she was suddenly on her back on the carpet, Spock heavy and hard between her legs. The burning weight of him smothered her in the best way possible. The hand on her hip tore away her plain regulation underwear and she did not mourn the loss of them, instead she twisted beneath him in blatant approval. _'Spohkkkh!'_

The grip on her hip tightened and she felt the burning heat of him shifting against her, making the aching hollow she felt unbearable. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips, trying in vain to align their bodies. His eyes were smouldering and she wanted to keep staring into them, but she was powerless to control the arch of her back and the droop of her eyelids as he gripped her hip and buried himself inside her.

The relief was instant. Her breath whooshed out of her taking the nervous anticipation and madness of the last few minutes with it. She opened her eyes, reached a hand up to press it against his face. He turned into her palm, his mouth opening to press something between a kiss, a lick and bite to her skin.

Utter contentment, utter perfection. Nothing beat the feel of being joined to Spock in such a manner. She felt a question in her mind as he dropped a hand to caress her face. /_Nothing?/_

Oh. Of course _that_ was better.

She twisted her head against the floor so that his fingers skimmed towards her psi points. He required no further encouragement, his warm fingers pressing firmly in her flesh and connecting their minds as surely as their bodies.

Even though they'd made love in such a manner many times and Nyota was prepared, the sudden onslaught, the overwhelming feel of their pleasure reflecting back and forth between them had her twisting mindlessly beneath him. Her movements resulted in Spock sliding a little deeper into her and he made a very human sounding groan of pleasure that excited her almost as much as his Vulcan rumbling and growling. Their shared intent, the purpose of their being naked on the floor suddenly reasserted itself to them. Spock withdrew from her agonisingly slowly then pressed back into her with equal restraint.

Nyota lost what little grip she'd been retaining upon her good sense. She called his name - he repeated that wonderful movement between them. She told him she loved him - his hips snapped forward at a gratifyingly increased pace. She could feel his pleasure at hearing her vocalise thoughts she'd usually keep to herself and so she continued with abandon. He was magnificent. Beautiful. No one could ever possibly compare to him as a lover. No one. Human, Vulcan or otherwise. Half of what she said made no sense, but the words kept coming, every idle romantic or lustful thought she'd ever had about him.

When she informed him that just the sound of his voice could make her wet with want for him he said her name and observed the effect it had upon her first hand through their melded minds. He still seemed in awe of the effect he had on her, of the depth of her love and attraction for him, despite how deeply connected they were, how little was secret between them. She told him that when he kissed her, touched her, just _looked _at her, she felt like she'd been drugged. It was as if some chemical reaction took place between them. She was anti to his matter. She'd wanted him the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. Everything about him, his body, his voice, his _smell_ seemed to have been carefully designed to make her lose her mind. She stopped and expanded upon his scent for a moment, burying her face against his collarbone as she did so, her lips ghosting over his skin as she spoke.

She heard his voice, rough and too-loud , 'Computer, enable sound proofing.' and became cognizant that she'd been making a lot of noise.

She should have cared, but found that she didn't. She'd been talking in a garbled pigeon of Vulcan, Swahili and English. It was unlikely anyone save Spock would have been able to follow her anyway and he did not seem overly concerned, especially as she continued her mid-coitus treatise on 'Things Nyota Loves about Spock.' She was no poet, but she was fairly certain a rendition of 'How do I love thee…' by Elizabeth Browning wouldn't have provoked the kind of reaction her own words were.

She continued her detailed exploration into how good Spock smelt. He smelt so good she often wanted to just lick him, bite him, taste his skin for no reason at all. The pale sliver of skin on the nape of his neck between his dark hair and the collar of his uniform called to her to, made her want to press her mouth against the warm skin there and -

He bit her.

She wailed and then detailed exactly what she felt when he did so.

_His. His. His. _She was _his_ and there was nothing in the universe better than being S'chn T'gai Spohkh's - feeling his body inside her body, his mind inside her mind, his _teeth_ in her flesh marking her, claiming her so all would know that wondrous truth, that she belonged to him.

Her words stoked that dark place inside him and he shifted, shoved a hand beneath her hips and lifted her so that he could penetrate her as deeply as possible. His breath was coming in pants that spread heat like a furnace across her skin as he exhaled. She couldn't speak anymore, the force of his body taking hers stole her breath and forced strangled noises from her throat.

What they were doing could hardly be called 'making love' anymore, it was far too desperate and vicious, and yet Nyota felt utterly cherished. He crushed her, the heat and weight of him almost unbearable, his teeth jerked in the tender flesh of her shoulder - jarred by their movements - and her hips and back rubbed against painfully against the carpet of the floor. Despite this she was pleading, not for him to stop, but for _more._ _/moremoremore/_

She tossed her head and Spock's fingers slipped from her psi points but they were so deeply connected, so tightly enmeshed, that the mind meld held. She felt his surprise but Nyota had turned her head, found his thumb and drawn it into the cavern of her mouth. All thoughts related to the mind meld evaporated as Spock groaned against her skin. She felt the echo of his pleasure. It stuttered through her like lightning.

Miraculously, implausibly, the movement of his hips sped up. It was too much, Nyota felt her breath catch and her head swim and then she was wracked with blinding white pleasure, her body tensing and throbbing around Spock's, pulling him along with her. She felt him swell and pulse within her. He collapsed in a heavy panting mess. The pleasure lingered, warm and reflected back and forth between them. She wrapped herself around him, arms and legs, cradling him against her.

He shifted, moved to his side and then his back so he was not crushing her. Nyota followed, adjusting herself so that they remained entwined. She buried her head against his neck and hummed in satisfaction.

For the first time in several days she felt amusement and happiness from their bond. She had not realised how much she had missed it until that moment. An answering lightness bubbled in her heart and she felt... _h__opeful_. She raised herself up on an elbow to look down at him and smile. 'I amuse you do I Commander?'

He offered no comment. One of his eyebrows twitched slightly. She observed he was was slightly out of breath.

She pouted at him. 'I suppose this means you won't be interested in a repeat performance of my impromptu recital dedicated to your sexual prowess and general superiority to all other males in the universe?' As she spoke she began pressing kisses against his chest. 'Which is a shame. So far we have made use of the couch and the floor but not the actual bed in your quarters.'

'I had thought perhaps the shower first.' Spock remarked.

Nyota gasped in delight at his illogical and almost playful suggestion. He felt the thought and gave her a disapproving look.

'Not illogical.' he replied. 'We are both in need of a shower and you, apparently, of further sexual gratification.' He made the statement in an utterly calm voice, which just made it all the more effective as a means of amusing Nyota.

She laughed shortly and considered denying his words, but instead agreed. 'Oh it's true! My poor, _poor_, Spock, stuck with an insatiable human wife.'

He did not reply, instead he sat up and frowned. Nyota felt his mild disapproval for their current location and state of undress. She sat up beside him and followed his line of vision. He was staring at his boots and the trousers entangled around them as if he did not understand why they were there. Nyota crawled down beside his feet and undid his boots before pulling his trousers off. She turned back to Spock and smirked at him. 'I don't know why you're looking so scandalised. This is hardly the first time you've ended up with your pants around your ankles in the doorway.' She paused. 'More like the hundredth.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'That is a _highly_ inaccurate figure.'

Before she could tease him for keeping track of the number times they'd made love under such circumstance, he rose to his feet pulling her with him. Nyota wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him lazily. Spock returned the gesture, exploring her mouth thoroughly as Nyota did her best to climb him like some sort of gorgeous Vulcan tree. After a minute he took pity on her and pulled her into his arms.

She murmured her approval against his neck as he carried her into the small bathroom that adjoined the bedroom. He put her on her feet as he adjusted the shower from sonic to water and turned it on. Nyota stepped inside and stretched her arms out to touch the sides. 'You know, I think this is larger than the shower we shared on Space Station 1.'

Spock stepped in beside her and reached for the cleanser. 'You are correct. Both the Captain's, First Officer's and the diplomatic staterooms have facilities exceeding Starfleet standards and therefore those on Space Station 1.'

'Mmm. A real shower on a Starfleet spaceship _is _pretty luxurious.' Nyota said as she took the cleanser and began washing her bemused husband. 'Such a wasteful use of water!' She shot him a look. 'It's good we're conserving it by sharing.'

'That is… correct.' Spock responded slowly as Nyota derailed his thoughts with the area of his anatomy that she was cleaning.

Sometime later Nyota and Spock retired to the bed. No longer exhausted as she had been when last they lay together, Nyota savoured having him so near. Safe. Alive. Beside her. The foreboding feeling was forgotten entirely. She could feel Spock's own contentment thrumming between them, covering the dark mess of sorrow and anger he'd been carrying within himself since the destruction of Vulcan. She was well aware that they were putting off the inevitable, pretending everything was fine, avoiding speaking of the things that they needed too, but she could not bring herself to care.

She would worry tomorrow. She fell into a peaceful slumber.


	10. Chapter 10: Spock

**Spock**

Spock was unsurprised to find he had slept for over six hours when he awoke. He had forgone two normal rest cycles and as such a longer period of sleep than was his norm was only to be expected.

Around him the room had the dry stillness of the scrubbed air of a spaceship. Clean. Dry. Cold. The dark shadows of the small room were not yet familiar to him and it took him a split second to recall where precisely he was. The First Officer's quarters aboard the _USS Enterprise._ To his right was the rectangle of darkness that indicated the open doorway to the bathroom and the wall past the foot of the bed had a similar dark shadow indicating the door to the main seating area. Above him the bulkhead curved slightly.

He was on his back in almost precisely the same position he had been in when he had prepared for sleep. Nyota lay on her side more or less wrapped around him. As was her wont as she slept, she had abandoned her pillow and slid down towards the foot of the bed. At some point during the night she had worked an arm underneath his shirt to wrap around his chest and her hand now rested above his heart. One of her legs was thrown over his own. Although the environmental controls of the quarters had been set at a compromised temperature, 26˚c as opposed to his preferred 32˚c, he was not at all chilled. He theorised that this was due to the body heat he was currently being provided with via his wife's extreme proximity.

A part of him wondered that he did not mind it. It was hardly logical or conducive to sleep to be so entwined and encumbered and yet he had slept soundly. Rather than an irritation, Nyota's presence was something of a reassurance. Perhaps even a comfort, overly emotional and irrational as the sentiment was.

3.2 hours remained until they were due back on the bridge for their next shift. He spent a few moments deciding upon the best use of the time available to him and enjoying the… reassurance Nyota's presence beside him provided. He was aware that she required further rest, at least an hour, two if possible. As far as he was aware there was nothing that required her attention before her shift, so he decided to let her sleep until 57 minutes before they were expected upon the bridge. From past experience he knew this would leave her enough time to shower, dress and partake of a meal.

Spock knew he should rise and meditate for a time, but found himself delaying the action. The bed was comfortable. His wife was warm. He was tempted to simply lie beside her and waste time in frivolous reflection. She had left the transparent aluminium window beside the bed set to full transparency. A pale light illuminated the room slightly from the stars beyond. She had commented on her enjoyment of the view currently afforded them as she prepared for sleep.

The clarity of space as viewed from a ship without the hindrance of light pollution and atmospheric interference was indeed quite pleasing. Spock made a study of the view by way of excuse to remain at Nyota's side a little longer.

The stars he observed were familiar. Although they were far from Earth, they were still within the gravitational influence of Sol and therefore the Sol System proper. Spock had jumped his counter-part's ship to an arbitrary set of co-ordinates in the midst of the Oort cloud of comets that composed the outer reaches of the system. It was from there they were slowly making their way back to Earth from.

His quarters were in the rear starboard side of the saucer and Sol was therefore not visible from them. Idly he identified major points of interest in the portion of space that was visible. Capella was the brightest star he could see. He traced the ancient Terran constellations mapped out before him with his eyes. The small zigzag of Cassiopeia, the three prongs of Perseus and the vague oval of Auriga.

He did not particularly see the images which, apparently, the lines he mentally traced between the points of light were meant to indicate. This did not appear to be a failure on the part of humanity however. Ancient Vulcans had performed the same exercise from their own home-world - made images of their gods in the brightest stars in their sky - and Spock had to admit their own attempts were no more successful. The star Capella, or T'Aanik as it was called on Vulcan, formed part of constellation of a warrior goddess. Akraana with her bow as viewed from Shi'Kahr was no more obvious an image than that of Perseus and his sword which he now regarded.

It occurred to him that no one would ever observe the constellation of Akraana from Shi'Kahr ever again. The thought bought an intense wave of what he had recently discovered was 'despair'. It seemed an over-reaction on his part. T'Aanik and the other stars of the constellation were unchanged. That they would no longer be observed from an particular point in space hardly warranted such emotion.

Spock roused himself from the bed before he could slip into further introspection. Moving carefully so as not to wake his wife, he extracted himself from her embrace and left the bed. Nyota murmured in her sleep, evidently displeased, and shifted into the space he had just vacated before settling back into deeper sleep.

He took a quick sonic shower and then spent twenty minutes in meditation. He did not attempt to address the myriad of distressing memories from the last few days, simply strengthened his control over them, ensuring they were buried deeply within him so he could continue to function adequately. When they returned to Earth he would have to take several days leave to meditate at length upon his recent experiences.

He replicated himself a fresh uniform and pulled on his boots. He restrained the illogical urge to press a kiss to his sleeping wife's face and left his quarters. The decks were quiet. It was early morning by standard reckoning, 05:03 hours, and few of the crew currently off duty would be utilising their time in recreational activities. As such the only crew he encountered en route to the medical bay were all on duty. They saluted and stepped to the side respectfully as he passed them.

The medical bay itself remained almost as crowded as it had been on his last visit. The lights had been dimmed to reflect artificial night and the nurses and medics on duty were making their rounds very quietly.

Spock signalled the one nearest to him, a human nurse who was perhaps 30 in standard reckoning, with a silent hand gesture in deference to the sleeping patients. The woman pointed to an administrative office to one side of the bay and Spock followed her inside. The desks in the office were covered in carefully arranged medical supplies as opposed to paperwork. Stacked crates of more supplies lined the walls. It was apparent that the medical department was still working beyond its intended capacity.

'Can I help you Commander?' the woman inquired in a low voice.

'Yes nurse. I would like to see Captain Pike if his condition will allow it.' at her slight frown Spock added, 'If he is resting I will obviously endeavour not to disturb him.'

She nodded once in acceptance. 'He is in a stable condition. His injuries are not life-threatening.' She paused. 'Would you like a more thorough explanation?'

'Please.' Spock prompted.

'His condition when brought aboard was surprisingly good considering he'd been Nero's prisoner.' The nurse explained. Spock recalled the Captain as he'd appeared when Kirk had beamed back to the _Enterprise_ with him - dirty, slightly battered but lucid. 'However the cause for his apparent lack of injury was made clear as soon as we made a full scan of the Captain. Nero used a Klingon interrogation technique upon him – a Centaurian slug. It burrowed its way through the Captain's trachea to embed itself in the brain stem. It'd been there hours, releasing a toxin that apparently acts as a very thorough truth serum.'

Spock felt himself frown slightly but did not attempt to mask his reaction. The news the nurse was sharing warranted such a response.

'Removing it was difficult and required complex surgery.' she continued. 'Luckily the medical equipment on the _Enterprise _is top notch, any other ship and I'm not sure the operation would have been successful. The damage the creature did to the medulla and pons was extensive. The Captain is suffering a variety of side effects as a result. His muscle co-ordination has been drastically affected, the doctors are uncertain if he will regain the ability to walk. His vision and speech was also affected, but reticular nerve stimulation appears to be having a positive effect on those and he seems to be on his way to regaining full control over them. Luckily his breathing and cardiovascular system were unaffected.'

Lucky indeed. The brain-stem controlled those basic and fundamental metabolic functions which kept Christopher alive as it were. Spock had been unaware of the extent of his injuries. He felt remiss for not having looked in upon him earlier.

'Thank you nurse. Would it be possible to see the Captain briefly?'

'Very well, but he needs his rest sir.' she pointed out quite unnecessarily.

'Of course.' he replied.

The nurse led him to one of the few private rooms in the medical bay. The Captain lay on a biobed, as she had said, asleep. Spock nodded to her in thanks and the woman left him at the door. He approached the sleeping figure of his friend and regarded both him and bio-reading display on the wall behind him carefully. The readings indicated that the nurse's explanation of his condition had been accurate.

He remained for a period of only five minutes. It was illogical to remain whilst Christopher was asleep. It would be more reasonable to return during the day shift and endeavour to encounter him awake. Perhaps he could stop by on his meal break. He was certain that Christopher would make similar effort to express concern for him were he the one who had been injured. He and Number One had stopped by regularly when Spock had been confined to the medbay aboard the _Nelson._

A thought occurred to him.

On the way out of the medical bay he quietly inquired of the same nurse if the Captain had been well enough to send any communications since his return to the _Enterprise._ The response was negative.

On his return to his quarters Spock closed the door to the bedroom so as not to disturb Nyota who still slept, and recorded a communiqué for Number One, or Lieutenant Commander Robbins as she was rightly know, informing her of the full nature of the Captain's condition and how he came to be injured. As a member of Starfleet she would no doubt be aware of the bare essentials with regards to his status, i.e. that he was alive, but Spock knew she would appreciate clarification. She and the Captain had a very close friendship and in all likelihood based upon exchanges between them he had witnessed, a romantic association of some sort as well.

After he sent the message he took a moment to sync his subspace routing address. He was aware of the backlog in the ship's subspace communications and was unsurprised that several out-dated communiqués and personal messages loaded.

He quickly scanned the official missives. None required his immediate attention. Most were related to mundane Academy matters. His personal communications included worried messages from the Graysons and to his mild surprise one routed from Orion from Zanta Uhura - Nyota's sister - and another from Nairobi from Sefu Adoyo – her uncle. He responded briefly to Nyota's relations informing them of the general situation, although he imagined Tamu Uhura would already have communicated as much to them, and repeated the same in slightly more detail to his own relatives, although again, his mother had most likely contacted them already.

Spock stared at the blinking icon indicating his last unread personal message for period of 2.6 minutes with conflicted thoughts. Unlike the others it was not from the backlog. It was received a mere 4.1 hours previously whilst he had slept. He contemplated deleting it unread or simply ignoring it. To do so would be illogical emotional act however. He cued it. It was a recorded visual communication. He sat through the 47 second recording with no outward reaction and a surprisingly muted internal one considering who the missive was from and the nature of his previous association with them.

As always, T'Pring's logic was flawless.

Spock shut down the console without sending a response.

He meditated for a period of 28 minutes before succumbing to illogical desire and returning to bed to lie once more beside his wife. Again she grumbled as he disturbed her, however this time the noise was one of pleasure. He felt her rise almost to consciousness within their bond. She wrapped herself around him again and he felt her relishing his warm Vulcan body temperature through vague telepathic connections where their bare skin touched. She mumbled sleepily against the cotton of his undershirt. _'Ulienda wapi (Where did you go)?'_

For a moment the Swahili was meaningless to him, a string of pleasant tones, and then the meaning cleared. As he opened his mouth to reply he realised she had immediately fallen back asleep however. He turned his face towards her. From the angle his head rested at he could only perceive the dark shadow of her hair. Her face was hidden where she had it pressed against him. His arm shifted, his fingers reaching out to touch the dark strands though he had made no conscious decision to do so. He curled his palm around the back of her skull and she made another vague noise, pleased by the attention, and pressed herself a little closer to him. He could tell from their bond that she was only sleeping lightly, would most likely soon awaken.

Spock found himself regarding Perseus and Cassiopeia once more. Tilting his head slightly he was able to bring the stars Almach and Mirach into view so he could trace the constellation of Andromeda. He recalled the ancient myth the stick figures supposedly represented. He had made no great study of ancient terran religion, but since many Federation names were derived directly from those myths, it was logical have some knowledge of them. As he recalled Andromeda, the beautiful maiden daughter of Cassiopeia, was taken by a sea monster to its lair in payment for some insult to the gods, and Perseus defeated several dread monsters to rescue her.

'They chained her to a rock.' Nyota corrected him.

Spock turned his attention from the stars to his wife.

Her eyes were still closed and she did not otherwise move or indicate her consciousness.

'Who chained whom to a rock?' he inquired.

'Cassiopeia was a queen, she insulted the gods by saying her daughter was more beautiful than the nymphs who served Posideon.' she continued by way of explanation, her voice soft with sleep. 'As punishment he sent a sea monster to destroy the kingdom. Apollo's oracle said only sacrificing her daughter would appease the gods and save the kingdom. So they chained her naked to a rock for the sea monster to eat. But Perseus happened to fly by on Pegasus and he turned the monster to stone with Medusa's head and rescued her.'

'A most convoluted and unlikely turn of events.' Spock remarked.

He felt her smile against him. 'You're not wrong - and that's the simplified version. It's not my favourite Greek myth. They do have pretty names though. Andromeda and Cassiopeia.'

'And what is your favourite?' he inquired.

'Hmm.' She was silent for a period of 22 seconds before responding. 'Orpheus and Eurydice.'

'I am familiar with the former, a mythical poet and musician, but not the latter.' Spock replied.

'She was his wife. On their wedding day she was chased by an evil satyr and stood on a viper that bit her and she died. Orpheus loved her so much he travelled to the underworld to beg the god of the dead to return her. Eventually he made it, crossing the river styx and lulling cerebus the three-headed dog to sleep with his music. He played so well that even Hades was touched by his music and Eurydice was freed from the underworld to return to the lands of the living with him. The only catch was that he could not look at her until they had left the underworld. It was a long journey, and Orpheus lost heart just as the light of the sun appeared before him. He looked over his shoulder, certain that Hades had lied to him, that his wife was not here, only to see her vanish into a shade once more, lost to him forever this time.'

Spock waited but Nyota had fallen silent. 'That is the conclusion of the tale?' he inquired.

'Yes.' she replied.

'It is most unsatisfying. The protagonist fails.' he pointed out.

'That's why it's such a good story.' she paused. 'And he _does _end up reunited with her, eventually. When he's torn to pieces by maenads.'

Spock was uncertain as to what a maenad was, but being torn to pieces was fairly clear in its meaning.

'That hardly lightens the tone of the tale Nyota.'

He felt her amusement through their bond. 'Don't tell me you only like stories with happy endings? Shall I recount the ancient terran epic 'Cinderella' for you my love?'

'You are mocking me.'

'Yes.' He could hear her smile.

She was silent for 2.3 minutes before she spoke once more. 'What is Capella called in Vulcan?' she inquired.

'T'Aanik.' Spock replied.

'And who was T'Aanik?' Nyota asked.

'She was a handmaiden to the goddess Akraana.' Spock replied.

'Tell me about her.'

'T'Aanik or Akraana?'

'Both. Either. Whichever is a good story.'

'Since neither of them die in unpleasant circumstances and no one is torn to pieces, I am uncertain you will find either to be a 'good' story as you put it.'

She raised her head sent him a look. 'Akraana then. I don't know any ancient Vulcan mythology.'

'Very well. I will tell you of the birth of Akraana. It has certain parallels to your dismal tale of Orpheus and his wife and is suitably violent for human tastes.'

'Har har.' Nyota replied sarcastically but made no further comment.

'Akraana was the daughter of Ti'Valka'ain, the god of fire and for whom our people are named.' Spock began. 'Ti'Valka'ain forged the weapons of the gods in his great forge and their strength was beyond compare. His sister T'Pel, the goddess of war, was angered that Ti'Valka'ain would not use his fire to forge her stronger weapons to defeat her ancient rival Khosaar, the god of war, against who she had fought for many eons.

Ti'Valka'ain did not wish to disrupt the peace of _Sha-ka-ri (heaven)_ by giving her such an advantage. When he refused she convinced their sister Natara, the goddess of water, to quench Ti'Valka'ain's flame and he fell from Sha-ka-ri and into the realm of death, the first god to do so. The goddess of death Reah, who had lived alone in the dark of her realm felt _shan'hal'lak (the engulfment)_ for him the moment she saw him. Her love for him rekindled his flame –'

Nyota sniggered. 'Rekindled _his flame_?'

Spock ignored her. '- but with his flame revived he lived once more and so was forced from her realm to return to Sha-ka-ri. But unbeknownst to him Reah was pregnant with his child. Life could not exist in the realm of death, so Reah arose to the _Svi'shasol (lands-between)_ to bring forth her child. Ti'Valka'ain, seeing his ashayam, threw himself down from Sha-ka-ri and to the Svi'shasol, bringing fire with him and changing the lands forever. Akraana, their daughter, was thus born amidst flame and death. Ti'Valka'ain followed Reah below the earth where he might watch over her in the realm of the dead below.'

Nyota was silent for a moment. 'So that's the story of how Vulcan became a desert?'

'The mythological explanation for the solar flare, yes.' Spock replied.

'What happened to Arkaana?'

'She became the goddess of war. She had a bow that shot Ti'Valka'ain's flame and being the daughter of death, was able to pass between the three realms, Sha-ki-ri, Svi'shasol and the realm of the dead with ease. T'Pel tried to destroy her, but Khosaar made her his consort and together they banished her to the shadows. T'Pel became the goddess of the dark war. Murder and violence. There was a sect of highly proficient assassins dedicated to her in pre-awakening times. It is my understanding they departed with those that would become the Romulans.'

'That _was _a good story. Better than Perseus.' she silent for a moment before adding, 'But who was T'Aanik then?'

'Khosaar and Arkaana would take the bravest and strongest of those who fell in battle into their service, to live in Sha-ka-ri. T'Aanik was one such.'

'Does Khosaar have a constellation?' Nyota asked.

'Indeed. It is based up on the star called Hamal in the Terran constellation of Aries.' he replied.

'So Arkaana and Khosaar are next to each other?'

'Of course.' Sensing Nyota's emotional response to this Spock felt obligated to defend it. 'Such an arrangement is only logical as they are married.'

'So if we were constellations, you'd be next to me?' he could hear the teasing smile in her voice.

'That is perhaps the most illogical query you have ever posed to me Nyota. But yes. If hypothetically, we were not carbon-based lifeforms, but instead a selection of stars or other luminous interplanetary objects as viewed from an arbitrary point, we would, undoubtedly, be situated adjacent to one another.'

She lifted her head to smile widely at him. 'Good. And it's not _so _far flung. You have, after all, referred to me as _Khio'ri (star)_, and as a Vulcan you don't lie.'

'Referring to you by the literal translation of your name does not mean you are actually a ball of luminous plasma Nyota.'

She shifted against him so that they faced on another more easily. 'What does it mean then?'

Spock frowned. 'You are making very little sense this morning my wife. That question is even less rational than your earlier inquiry with regards to our relative location to one another if we were _constellations.'_

'So you don't have an answer?' she was still smiling very widely.

'Since I do not understand the question, how can I?'

'Let me rephrase, if when you call me Khio'ri you are not in fact referring to the literal meaning of the word, what are you referring to?'

Her clarification did not offer anything of the sort. 'I call you Khio'ri because that is your name.'

'My name is Nyota.'

'A direct translation.'

'I think you call me Khio'ri because you like how illogical it seems in your own language.' she pronounced 'Nyota is just a name, but Khio'ri is a 'ball of luminous plasma' as you so eloquently put it. I think secretly you find it amusing that you are married to a ball of luminous plasma.'

Spock gave her his full attention. She was being humorous he knew, but still, he felt the need to debate her accusations. 'I assure you my wife, that is not the case.'

She rolled her eyes. 'It's okay. Being called 'Star' _is_ pretty silly. Still, there are worse terran names. They could have named me Rainbow or Butterfly or something.'

Spock switched to Vuhlkansu in an attempt to better word his response. _'Your name is exceedingly pleasing both phonetically and in its meaning. When you were assigned as my teaching aide and I saw your full name, I translated it into Vuhlkansu in an attempt to replicate the impact it would have in your native tongue.'_

Her smile had changed from humour to something warmer. _'You translated my name?'_

'_I first had to research Kenyan naming traditions. Your middle name was quite confounding to me initially. But I eventually translated your name in its entirety.' _He paused for a moment before continuing. _'Nat'qles nash-khio'ri na'mu-yor (Born-this-star-at-night). It is a name ill-suited to Vulcan tastes since given its poetry and sentimental symbolism it defies logic, and yet I find it to be beautiful.'_

She was silent but he could feel her pleasure at his words. At length she spoke. 'Your logic can be very romantic you know.'

'Romance by definition is illogical.' He replied more by habit than any strong opinion on the matter.

'If you'd called me that two years ago I most likely would have given you a great big illogical kiss.'

'It is undoubtedly for the best I did not then. I would have found such a reaction alarming given my state of mind at the time.'

Nyota frowned slightly, but she was still smiling. 'Your state of mind?'

'Denial.' He replied succinctly.

She laughed once more.

Spock felt an answering tug at the corner of his mouth. He marvelled at her ability to completely occupy his attention with such irreverent conversation. Thoughts of Vulcan or Nero had not crossed his mind since she had awoken.

.

* * *

.

'We are being hailed by the _USS Sakar_ Captain.' Nyota informed Kirk from her console.

'On screen Lieutenant.' Kirk responded turning his chair to face front.

A view of a Kelvin class bridge with a middle-aged human male in the Captain's seat and various curious officers arrayed around him appeared on the viewscreen.

'This is Acting Captain Kirk of the _USS Enterprise._' Kirk said by way of greeting.

'Captain Kirk, I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to see you and the _Enterprise _safe and sound.' The man replied. 'I'm Captain Brennan of the _Sakar._ We've got a warp core here with your name on it.'

'Good to hear.' Kirk responded. 'We were just about ready to get out and push.'

Several crew members, and Captain Brennan, laughed shortly at Kirk's typically illogical terran humour. Spock noted that Nyota did not find the statement particularly amusing. This pleased him more than it had reasonable cause to.

Kirk and Captain Brennan exchanged convoluted human pleasantries for an additional 3.8 minutes, entirely unnecessarily, before actual plans were made.

The _Sakar _had a team of skilled engineers and technicians aboard and they brought the replacement warp core over via shuttle craft. Using the transporter pads was impossible. Not only was the core in its containment field exceedingly large and heavy, getting it down to Engineering from one of the transporter rooms would have been near impossible owing to the layout of the decks.

In contrast it took less than ten minutes for the team from the _Sakar _to transport it from the shuttle bay to Engineering.

Under Acting Chief Engineer Scott's guidance the replacement warp core was installed and tested in a matter of hours. 4.2 to be exact. Kirk was eager to get the _Enterprise _back to Spacedock and he pushed the repairs. Lieutenant Commander Scott had demonstrated his superior technical abilities several times over the last few days, and he proved just as capable in overseeing more mundane matters such as repairs. Spock was also impressed with his ability to deal with Kirk. To the best of his knowledge the two humans had only a brief acquaintance, but they seemed exceedingly familiar with one another.

He thought of Nyota sharing a meal with Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu. Humans could establish friendships at an almost alarming rate.

Doctor McCoy had transferred many of his more seriously wounded patients over to the empty medical bay on the _USS Sakar _and many refugees had also chosen to take berth on the other ship. Spock was pleased, the _Enterprise _had been quite crowded and with several large areas of the ship still not safe owing to radiation leaks and hull breaches, the less civilians aboard the better.

The Vulcan High Council and Nyota's mother elected to remain aboard the _Enterprise._ Spock imagined this was motivated as much by politics as by personal preference. If the Vulcan High Council were seen to be returning to the Federation Capital on the _Enterprise_, they would be associated with the defeat of Nero.

Captain Pike elected to remain on board for reasons of a more personal nature Spock imagined. Having guided the _Enterprise _out of spacedock on her first voyage, he no doubt wished to likewise be aboard for her return. Kirk seemed to understand this and hadn't even suggested moving the injured man to the _USS Sakar, _despite the fact that it would undoubtedly beat the _Enterprise_ back to spacedock and therefore to better medical facilities.

The journey by warp back to Earth was one of mere seconds. They'd been only .27 Lightyears from the planet after all. The stars lengthened as space was twisted around them, and then reformed once more into familiar patterns.

The narrow view afforded Spock from the viewscreen showed 12 heavy-cruisers, 6 Kelvin class ships and 3 miscellaneous scout and maintenance craft. If the rest of space dock was similarly occupied then much of the fleet had returned from the Laurentian System. Behind the silhouette of the _USS Victory _Spock observed the constellations he'd been looking at that morning from his quarters. Perseus, Andromeda and Cassiopeia. They appeared infinitesimally different from the _Enterprises's _new co-ordinates but there apparent subject matter was no clearer.

He dismissed such idle thoughts from his mind as he guided Acting Captain Kirk through the standard procedure for the return to spacedock and the end of his temporary command of the ship. Nyota forewarned them of a 'welcoming party' awaiting them in space dock and Spock braced himself for several hours of unpleasant interaction with Starfleet Admiralty and Federation Politicians.

They were greeted with exuberance. Even Admiral Barnett, who had expressed in the past a dislike for Spock, attempted to ingratiate himself. Spock was forced to keep his hands tightly clasped behind his back. People kept attempting to shake them.

The entire bridge crew were swamped with eager questions and congratulations. However, there was an awkwardness to the exchanges that even Spock could pick up on however. Whilst those present were excited that Nero had been defeated and Earth had been saved - Vulcan had been lost, and conversations kept twisting from praise to remorse. He wished to return to his quarters in San Francisco, don his meditation robe and sit before his asenoi.

Nyota's patience drained even quicker than his. She did not enjoy such events in the best of times, and given the current circumstances, was having difficulty maintaining a polite façade of enjoyment and relaxation. Eventually she abandoned her fellow officers and went to stand beside Ambassador Uhura. Less people approached her. They were not eager to engage in conversation with the bereaved Ambassador.

He was tempted to join her. Bereaved or not, Tamu and Nyota Uhura were superior company than that he was currently being subjected to. Apparently sensing his intent she looked up to meet his eyes across the room and made a tiny impatient gesture, her lips pursed momentarily and her left eyebrow lifted slightly.

Spock crossed the room to join her. He exchanged greetings with her mother. Tamu appeared composed. Nyota less so. Spock wished to offer her his fingers in the _ozh'esta_ but knew they should not make such an obvious gesture in front of so many Starfleet personnel.

His parents joined them accompanied by T'Pau and one of the other elders. Spock felt his weariness and trepidation mirrored in his wife. He wondered how long the tedious event would drag.

To his surprise after exchanging pleasantries with Ambassador Uhura, his father offered him respite.

'_Spock. It is my understanding the crew of the Enterprise have been given leave. Will you and your wife be accompanying us to the Vulcan Embassy in San Franciso or do you still have duties requiring your attention?'_ he posed the inquiry in Vuhlkansu, for which Spock was grateful.

Sarek's casual reference to Nyota as his wife was still strange on his ears however. Despite the clear implication of acceptance that their last conversation had indicated, it still seemed out of place.

Spock felt Nyota's mixed feelings with regards to the suggestion. She was eager to leave, but concerned of the welcome that awaited her at the Vulcan Embassy. He sent her reassurance and felt her mental acquiescence to his father's offer.

'_That would be acceptable father.' _he replied.

His mother smiled the widest smile he'd seen on her in some time


	11. Chapter 11: Nyota

AN: _Tel-esta - _Bond-touch is completely made up.

* * *

**Nyota**

Nyota was familiar with the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco. It was located downtown in the city near the financial district. The Rigelian and Andorian Embassies were located on the same block and their distinctive alien architecture stood out amidst the gleaming sky scrapers and older 20th and 19th century human architecture.

She'd never actually been inside any of them however. She'd visited many Embassies across the Federation as a small child with her mother, but as a cadet at the Academy she'd had no cause to. They travelled via shuttle from Spacestation 1 directly to the Embassy, a fact that Nyota was immensely glad of looking out the window as they landed. The local residents of San Francisco were holding a vigil of some sort in the small garden at the front of the building. Although she was perfectly aware they were attempting to show their grief and support for Vulcan, she felt almost ashamed of them, and then promptly guilty for feeling that way.

No Vulcan would welcome such a public display. To them it would be at best confusing and at worse exceedingly vulgar. No doubt there would be flowers and other tokens piled up at the gates over the next few days. She glanced at Sarek. At least with a human wife the Ambassador would be coached in an appropriate response. She didn't envy him. Accepting the distraught, emotional condolences of the other planets in the Federation would be taxing for anyone. For a Vulcan it would be doubly upsetting.

The shuttle landed without incident and they were guided inside. The Elders were led away by diplomatic staff to rooms where they might rest. Spock and Nyota followed his parents through the building and to a private turbolift. There were many staff briskly going about their business, mostly Vulcan but also humans and other races. Eyes followed her. Or at least that's what it felt like. To allow herself to turn and return their regard would be to admit some sort of weakness, and so she ignored the sensation of being stared at.

Like her husband beside her, Amanda's face was utterly serene. Nyota attempted to emulate her.

The brief lift ride was silent. They emerged into a foyer of what was clearly the Ambassador's private residence. Two Vulcan guards in uniform framed an ornate door. They silently flashed the and triggered it without further comment.

Once the door had slid shut behind them Amanda sighed loudly and visibly _deflated. _Nyota felt a muted concern that was echoed by Spock.

'Mother? You are unwell?' came his hesitant inquiry.

She waved a hand and shook her head. 'I'm just exhausted.' She paused. 'And sad.'

Nyota regarded her in mild shock. She'd always imagined that Spock's mother would have attempted to affect a Vulcan form of emotional restraint. It was unexpected to hear her speak so bluntly of her feelings. 'A part of me has always considered it as such, but for the first time Earth does not feel like home.'

'It is the only home we have left mother.' Spock replied, an echo of his words on the bridge before he and Kirk set off to stop Nero from destroying that home.

'Indeed. I am grateful Terra still stands. Had Nero succeeded, had both our home-worlds been destroyed my wife, the Federation would surely have crumbled. There would have been no hope for either of our people.' Sarek stated in his deep, calm voice.

Nyota had never heard him say so many words at once. And in standard at that.

He also made a valid point she had not thought of previously. Nero's stated claim had been to destroy the Federation. Had he succeeded, it would have only been a matter of time until the Klingons, Romulans or Cardassians took over whatever he might have left for the survivors. The full extent of the genocide he had intended suddenly unfurled in her mind. He'd said Vulcan and Earth were only the beginning. Andoria, Tellar and Rigel VII would have followed. Then the smaller worlds like Risa and Betazed, and who's to say he would have spared the neutral planets? Orion and the like?

She felt that guilt inside her that Earth had survived where Vulcan had not subside a tiny bit. Her eyes stung with fatigue, felt hot and scratchy. Blinking slowly she stifled a yawn. Spock turned to regard her.

'Nyota requires rest.' he informed his parents, as if she were a child or an invalid in his care.

Amanda shared a glance at her, a subtle look of amusement and commiseration at her son's tone.

Sarek just nodded. 'The usual guest chambers have been prepared.'

'Then we will retire.' Spock replied. He bowed his head slight towards his parents, 'Mother, Father.'

His father returned the gesture but his mother stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Spock stiffened and for a moment looked for all the world like a moody teenager.

Nyota found herself smiling at his childish recalcitrance.

Amanda's voice was light with amusement. 'Goodnight Spock, Nyota.'

'Goodnight Amanda, Ambassador Sarek.' Nyota replied in equal good humour.

Spock led her to a guest room. Nyota walked three steps inside and stopped dead. It was so… _Vulcan._ Everything, the furniture, the decorations… the _doorknobs_… She wasn't sure what she felt. What she should feel being surrounded by the cultural embodiment of a race that had been decimated. A few steps from her Spock was standing in front of a long window, a tall, thin, angular figure, his posture rigid. He turned slightly and regarded her out of the side of his eyes. The angle of his face emphasised his inhuman features - the sharp angle of his brows, the tapered point of his ears. His expression was smooth, but the tiny furrow above his left eyebrow and the tilt of his head indicated concern or wariness to Nyota who knew him so well. Mostly likely he sensed her conflicting emotions.

She sighed. Getting worked up over the décor _was _illogical and ridiculous. Dismissing her thoughts she unzipped her boots and placed them neatly by the door.

'There are bathing facilities through that door.' Spock informed her gesturing with his hand.

Nyota found herself yawning again as she nodded. It was still early, sometime around 21:00 hours standard, but she was ready to fall into bed. A shower would be welcome however.

The bathroom, again, was odd by human standards. It contained all the usual facilities, but the arrangement and manufacture of the items was subtly different to those of human design. Everything was slightly highly, larger, more robust. The shower was huge, experimentally she reached up to try and touch the water spout as she washed herself. It was too high. Through their bond she could sense Spock nearby, but he did not join her. It was probably for the best, she _was_ exhausted. She took her time under the water, washing her hair carefully and letting her muscles loosen under the soothing heat.

There was a nondescript but beautifully soft robe hanging upon a peg on the wall. She dried off using the sonic setting and wrapped herself up in it.

The spicy smell of Vulcan food greeted her as she exited the bathroom. There was a covered tray on a small table in one corner.

'_Mother sent a meal for you.'_ Spock remarked in Vulcan. His voice sounded slightly off, more distant than usual.

'_You are not hungry?'_ Nyota asked tentatively. He had not eaten since they had shared a meal in his quarters that morning.

'_I intend to meditate.' _he offered by way of explanation.

Fasting was often a part of more intense meditation. Nyota nodded her understanding as she took a seat and uncovered the tray. She'd felt the mess of emotions, pain, her husband was keeping locked up inside himself. Intense meditation was probably only going to scrape the surface.

On the tray before her was a bowl of soup thick with vegetables and something similar to legumes. On the side was a dark loaf of bread, dotted with seeds. It smelt appetising. The spoon was oddly formed, felt awkward in her hand, as if made by someone who'd never actually used a spoon before. The soup was new to her, she didn't recognise the ingredients, but it tasted familiar.

While she ate, Spock showered quickly and pulled loose pants and a meditation robe from the dark wooden drawers set against the wall. He was withdrawn, but Nyota could feel through their bond that his mood was not directed at her. He was distracted and irritable. Quite a mild reaction considering the stress of the last few days. She had no wish to add to it by misinterpreting his behaviour and taking offense.

He pulled back a decorative sliding screen that she hadn't realised was a door. There was a small windowless chamber beyond containing a mat and a large ornate asenoi. The walls were bare.

She wondered how long he intended to meditate. If he was considering fasting - perhaps days?

'_This evening only. Father will require my presence tomorrow.'_ he remarked in response to her unspoken question.

He crossed the room to stand before her. He hesitated, awkward in her presence as he had not been for many months. Curling her fingers, she offered him her index and middle finger in a traditional Vulcan gesture. He reciprocated swiftly and with apparent relief. Through the link of their fingers she felt the muddled state of his thoughts. He had no wish to offend or hurt her, but he felt his control slipping and required meditation if he was to continue to function without further inappropriate outbursts like the one Kirk had provoked in him. Behind his worries about his own metal state, she felt his concern for her. The spectre of her father loomed large between them for a moment, Spock's guilt palpable.

Nyota felt her sorrow well within her, but the mental barriers that had kept it constrained since Spock had helped her in the transporter room remained, held.

Spock spoke aloud. _'I did not realise you still blocked your pain at your father's passing my wife.'_ His concern rippled between them. _'I am uncertain if this is wise. You should grieve him.'_

'_Not yet. I can't… not yet.' _she replied, shaking her head.

He pulled her towards him, into his arms. Nyota allowed herself a moment of comfort before pulling back to regard him. 'Go. Meditate. I'm going to get some sleep.'

Dark eyes bored into hers for a long moment before he nodded. 'Very well.'

He pressed his forehead to her own for a moment, his skin fever-warm against her, before releasing her from his hold.

'Good night _ashal-adun'a_.'

The combination of standard and Vulcan was a little odd, but the sweet sentiment, something that meant darling or beloved wife made her smile, which was, she sensed, his intention.

She missed the solid warm shape of him at her side when she lay down to sleep, but she had lots of practice, _years_ in fact, of denying herself where Spock was concerned and she felt him beside her in their bond, so she was not truly alone. Given her exhaustion, sleep came easily enough.

Her dreams were strange. She saw dark cavernous rooms. Kirk. Nero. The flames of an asenoi, calming, changing and yet unchanging. T'Khasi fell around her, the ground thrown up in great jagged spires, flumes of larva, crumbling stone, the smell of gases and burning seemed to seep into her very skin. She was running along a dark tunnel, something behind her, she turned and there were figures. Sarek - _sa'mekh (father)._ Zuberi - _sa'mekh t'telik (father by marriage)._ The ground fell away. _Ko-mekh t'telik (mother by marriage) _was at her side. Fearful. _Ko-mekh _(mother) stepped away. She wanted to reach to her but did not. The ground jerked and her hand shot out as _ko-mekh's _eyes widened and her fear and shock flooded their bond. Her fingers closed on air as _ko-mekh_ slipped backwards, away. A dark hand contrasting against the colour of_ ko-mekh's_ dress. Feelings not her own, resignation, determination. _Zuberi._ The white light of the transporter blinding her. _Ko-mekh _suddenly in her arms. Falling. Burning. Fire. The voices of the V'tosh, the _k'war'ma'khon, _crying out inside her. A billion lives. gone. cold silence carried in her mind. The flames of the asenoi once _more._ The _Narada_ looming just ahead of her. Her fingers on strange controls. A detached countdown until impact and death. Her own face._ Ashayam (beloved)._ The warm blur of her mind were it lay within_. K'hat'n'dlawa (half-of-my-soul)_. The smell of her skin. The soft tones of her voice. _Dan-vaksurik (most-beautiful)._

Her dreams shifted.

Bright sunlight poured into the room when she awoke the next morning. Judging from the height of the sun and her grogginess, it was mid-morning, if not closer to lunch. She reached out to Spock and felt him somewhere below her. He was in the building, no doubt with his father and the elders doing… whatever it was they were doing.

There was no replicator in the room and her uniform was stale and crumpled. She went through the heavy drawers and the wardrobe. There were an assortment of robes within, and judging from their size and the fact that many featured decoration referring to House Solkar and Clan Surak, they were Spock's. Given the manner in which Vulcan robes fit, she supposed clothes made for Spock at nineteen would still fit Spock at twenty-eight. She wondered at their presence however. Someone would have had to have brought them from Shi'Kahr. Perhaps his mother had years previously, in a vain hope he would visit his father at the Embassy? The thought made her sad.

In the end she pulled on a pair of loose trousers and managed to fasten the waist with clever use of her hairband. Over the top she put the smallest, simplest robe she could find. It would be good enough to go locate Lady Amanda or someone who could direct her to a replicator.

She stepped barefoot out into the hallway outside her room. Music was playing from a nearby room. She followed it and found Amanda seated at a desk with a very large stack of PADDS at one elbow and a personal computer at the other. Spock's mother looked up at her as she entered.

'Nyota!' she called in greeting. Her eyes flickered over her ensemble. 'I _knew _I forgot something.' She rose to her feet. 'Come, let's get you something to wear.'

'Oh, Good morning. Thankyou Amanda. Something replicated will be fine.' Nyota replied in a muddle.

'Replicated clothes?' she said distastefully. 'Don't be silly. I'm a diplomat's wife. I have more clothes than sense. I'm sure I have something suitable.' She pursed her lips. 'Replicated clothes, even though I _know_ they are identical to the real thing so to speak, just don't feel right. They are _always _uncomfortable.'

'I have to agree there, despite Spock's claims about identical molecular structure, replicated uniforms always seem to itch…' Nyota replied.

They passed through what was clearly Amanda and Sarek's bedroom. Nyota couldn't help but glance around curiously, despite feeling like she was trespassing. It was furnished with elaborate carved Vulcan furniture and fittings, but some of the paintings on the walls were terran. There were two matching Japanese watercolours and a big european print in heavy golden frame.

The image was familiar to Nyota - a long-haired woman and a man in armour, a medieval scene as was popular in the 18th or 19th century. She couldn't quite recall the name of the painting. It was from a poem she thought. It was unashamedly _human and _blatantly romantic. The knight was leaning over the woman in a half embrace, as if he was about to kiss her. It was _greatly_ at odds with the rest of the décor.

Amanda followed her line of sight and smiled brightly. 'Oh! My painting! I used to have a little print of it in my office at the Embassy.' she bit her lip. 'Sarek knew that humans gave one another gifts as expressions of romantic interest…'

Nyota did a double take. 'You mean that's…?'

'Yes. The original. We hadn't even been on a _date _and he gives me _that. _I didn't know what to think. It was simultaneously incredibly romantic and insulting in a way.'

'Yes. I can see how a gift like that would be… confusing.' Understatement. 'And isn't is based upon a quite depressing poem?'

'_The Belle Dame Sans Merci_ by Keats.' Amanda replied wryly. Ah. Keats. Nyota recalled Spock telling her how his mother had translated ancient terran poems into High Vulcan. He'd used a poem by Keats to demonstrate. He was a favoured author of hers clearly. 'She,' Amanda waved her hand at the painting of the beautiful woman, '... is something like a siren. Casts a spell on hapless men fall so they fall in love with her and then leaves them to die.'

Nyota frowned. 'It's a beautiful painting... But that's um, pretty heavy with subtext for a gift from a _Vulcan_.'

'Sarek didn't understand the meaning of the painting, he thought it a simple depiction of a romantic embrace. When he gave it to me I was thoroughly confused - both delighted and appalled.' Amanda replied regarding the painting intently.

Nyota stepped closer to the painting to inspect it up close. The paint was cracked and there were little imperfections and flaws in the finish. It only added to the beauty of the image in her opinion. She realised that the woman's hair was actually wrapped around the knight's shoulders, restraining him. Entangling him. Trapping him. She found herself wondering if that was how Sarek of Vulcan had felt when he had fallen in love with Amanda. Spock was part human, for him to love a human was not... illogical... but Sarek... it must have been very different for him. The S'haile of House Solkar in love with a human woman. Nyota suddenly felt that she did not know Spock's father at all.

Amanda had come to stand beside her. 'I'm not allowed to take it off planet - cultural significance.' she said giving Nyota a slightly guiltily look. 'I've lent it out to several galleries over the years, I don't like to hog it so to speak, but it's usually in our bedroom when we are staying on Earth.' She was silent for a moment and her voice was lighter when she continued. 'So I take it my son hasn't showered you in gifts then?'

'No. I haven't come back to find any monet's or renoir's in my dormitory.' Nyota replied as Amanda led her away from the painting and into a large dressing room adjoining the bedroom.

'More sense than his father then.' the older woman replied. 'Now!' she turned back to Nyota and gave her a thorough once over. 'You're taller than me but I think more or less the same size.' She began flicking through robes, dresses, tunics and odd garments Nyota didn't recognise. 'I'm assuming you don't want to wear a dress with a corset?' Amanda inquired.

'Er…' Nyota was unsure of how to respond. She was aware that most Vulcan woman of Amanda's rank wore corseted dresses under their robes, but she wasn't sure she wanted to be stuck in something so uncomfortable.

'No no, you don't have to say anything. It took me _years _to get used to them. You're a member of Starfleet, you have an excuse. You can't be expected to run around the galaxy in a corset.' The pile of things over Amanda's arm continued to grow. Robes and dresses for the most part by the looks of it.

Amanda had to help her and demonstrate _how_ a few of the stranger garments were properly worn, but fifteen minutes later Nyota was dressed in a beautiful cream dress with a matching robe of a material something like cotton. They were nowhere near as elaborate as the formal robes she'd once seen Spock in, but still lovely. She didn't have any shoes however and since her regulation boots would have looked ridiculous, Amanda let her replicate a simple pair of sandals. They only pinched her toes slightly.

Spock's mother then wanted to do her hair.

Somewhat bemusedly, Nyota allowed her to. They chatted about inconsequential things and exchanged gossip about their respective husbands. Amanda demonstrated a traditional Vulcan hairstyle, complete with a headdress that the hair was wrapped around something like a spindle. It took half an hour to put it up, but it did look very impressive by the time Amanda was through with it. Nyota felt a little like an Egyptian priestess.

Amanda broke off in the midst of another tale of Sarek's romantic miss-steps, this one involving chocolate, and disjointedly informed Nyota that Sarek and Spock would be returning to share their midday meal.

Nyota regarded the older woman with interest. 'You can actually speak to one another over such a distance?' she inquired. 'Words?'

Amanda nodded. 'Not nearly so clearly as through touch telepathy and it requires much more concentration, but yes. You just have to focus on the words absolutely. It is called the _Tel-esta (Bond-touch)_.'

Experimentally Nyota reached for Spock within herself. She had nothing in particular to tell him, so she simply attempted to tell him that she loved him. One moment she was reaching towards him, and then he was reaching back to her and their bond suddenly flared to life between them. It was almost as if they were pressing their fingers together.

Nyota gasped in surprise at the unexpected intensity.

She felt something like the phantom touch of a warm Vulcan hand against her cheek. Her arm lifted automatically and she could almost feel the softness of Spock's hair beneath her fingers. She heard his deep beautiful voice inside her mind _/beloved/_ and it made her shiver and break out in goosebumps as if the word had been whispered against her ear.

Her body was aflame. She could feel the rapid tattoo of her heart, the uneven catch of her breath. She suddenly, very desperately, wanted Spock to be near her so she could kiss him and press her hands against him. She wanted to bury her face against him and inhale the delicious scent of him, twist her fingers in his silken hair and curl her tongue into the hot cavern of his mouth so she could taste him. Her desire as intense as it was sudden. She shifted uncomfortably.

Amanda was saying something. It took huge effort_. Monumental_ to focus on her words.

'… quite intense.'

'What?' she replied vaguely.

Amanda looked like she might laugh. 'You just tried it with Spock didn't you?'

'Yes… It…' Nyota trailed off. She was having difficulty concentrating, she could feel Spock close, in the building, but _so far_. Too far.

'You'll have to be careful, it can have a powerful effect. I'd recommend practising. In_ private_.'

Nyota realised belatedly that she'd stood and walked half way to the door.

'Nyota? Where are you going?'

She halted and looked back at Amanda in confusion. She'd said something.

It took long seconds for the words to clear to sense in her mind and when they did she didn't care, dismissed them, ignored the noises that followed.

She could feel Spock reaching for her, feel his approach. It felt as if a stretched piece of elastic connected them, drawing them together. She reached back along the bond towards him, needing to be close to him in any way possible. Between them the bond flared into bright heat and again there was the sensation of being beside him. Her hand rose and reached out to something mid-air. The heat of his skin felt almost real beneath her stretched fingers.

_To be parted from him was intolerable. They were one. They should not be parted._

Nyota vaguely realised she was thinking in Vulcan. Wasn't entirely sure if they were her own thoughts or Spock's. Didn't care. She called to him. _/Spock! come!/_ Felt a surge of heat from him in response before her concentration faltered and the bond dimmed and returned to normal. Inside her chest her heart was beating rapidly in a strange panic. Her hand was on the door to Amanda's dressing room and then suddenly she was triggering the large double doors at the entrance to the apartment. The two Vulcans standing guard regarded her curiously but she ignored them. She stopped in the small foyer in front of the turbolift. She felt the tell-tale tickle in their bond that indicated Spock was inside it shooting up the building towards her.

It chimed and opened upon her husband. His eyes bored into hers. She took a step forward –

A hand pulled her back. A voice, pleasant, but unintelligible. The grip pulled her, turned her, linked an arm through hers. She could feel Spock right behind her following closely. She craned her head over her shoulder to look at him.

Spock's mother pulled her towards the doors. Nyota shifted her arm, testing her hold._ 'No! let go! I must...'_

The big doors opened once more. closed. The grip on her slackened and she yanked herself away. He was right beside her. Spock. She threw herself at him, her arms reaching. Her fingers clenched in his robes and she pressed herself as close as possible to him, burying her face against the warm, _wonderful, _wall of his chest and inhaling the fresh scent of him. A warm heavy hand slid down her back and sort her hand where it hung beside her. Spock's fingers pressed against hers.

The sharp shape of his mind nudged against her, closer, better, but still parted. His other hand raised, cradled her face. _/Kash-nohv (mind-meld)?/ _he asked in her thoughts, his need plain despite his hesitation. She turned into his palm as she voiced her acceptance through their fingertips._ /Yes. Kash-nohv./_

His fingers slid over her face, found her psi points and then they were one.

The strange tension evaporated from her. Yes. Yes. It was okay. They were together.

Nyota crumpled against him as her breath left her body in a relieved sigh. Spock released her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her to prevent her from sliding bonelessly to the ground.

Their thoughts were vague and muddled. She felt Spock's unease over the discussions the Council had partaken in, he felt her amusement over his mother's anecdotes, their thoughts over the course of the morning slipped between them without censure. After perhaps a few minutes, _/2 minutes 37 seconds/_ Spock corrected her, she felt her clarity return.

The voices she'd heard quietly talking came into focus. '… she didn't give me the chance to warn her adun, or I most certainly would have.' Amanda, (_Ko-mekh)- s_he and Spock simultaneously and divergently identified her.

'Spock left the meeting in the midst of S'haile Kasok's report upon the native T'Khasi biological samples available via our off-planet scientific facilities.' Sarek, (_Sa-mekh)._

'Better he left the Council than making her come to him surely?' Amanda (_ko-mekh_) sounded amused. 'Better a slight insult to S'haile Kosok then performing kash-nohv or worse upon his human wife in front of the entire High Council.'

Spock wished to request clarification of his parents over what had just occurred. He had indeed abruptly and without explanation walked out of a meeting of the High Council, compelled to seek her out. Nyota was equally curious. She was certain had he not come to her, she would have ran through the embassy until she found him, High Council be damned. He withdrew his mind from hers along with his fingers from her face. He did not move to step from her embrace however, and Nyota remained in his arms, simply turning to face Sarek and Amanda.

Spock's parents seemed to sense the change and their attention slid from each other and to Spock and Nyota.

'Father, mother - what just occurred?' Spock inquired.

_/Tel-esta/ _Nyota informed him via their fingertips. She felt his confusion.

'A side effect of a strong bond-touch. Telepathic communication without touch can result in a compulsion to deepen and reaffirm the connection via touch-telepathy or mind-meld.' Sarek replied.

'I was unaware of this.' Spock remarked.

'Usually such things would be spoken of before _Kal'i'farr (marriage)._' Nyota thought she felt a slight hint of censure in Sarek's voice. 'Owing to the nature of your bonding, this was not possible.' Yes, there was definitely disapproval there.

Spock was silent for a moment and Nyota felt him come to some sort of decision. He spoke in Vulcan and Nyota could feel his cool repressed anger at his father bubbling just below his words.

'_It would have been highly illogical to expect more than disapproval and reprimand with regards to Nyota from you father. Had this not been so, 'the nature' of my bonding would have been quite different. I regret this.' _He paused. _'It was not my intention to give offence to you by not including you, merely to prevent you from inflicting emotional distress upon she who is my wife.'_

Nyota hurriedly masked the surprise she felt at Spock's succinct little outburst. She'd thought he and Sarek had come to some sort of understanding, but clearly there was still some... stuff… they needed to work out. Amanda was glancing wide-eyed between her husband and son, clearly distraught that they might be about to start up their ten-year estrangement once more.

'_I... regret the long disagreement between us Spock.'_ Sarek responded at length.

Nyota noted he didn't exactly apologise however.

'_I would not have further discord between us.' _he paused _'And you are correct. Had you spoken of marriage to a human, I would not have given my approval.'_

Nyota wondered if she ought to leave them alone so they could talk about her. They obviously needed to and she didn't particularly want to listen to it. She could feel that Sarek's words were upsetting rather than soothing her husband's anger however and she didn't want to leave him. He did not like to hear 'human' used in such a way. To him it seemed an insult not only to her, but to his mother. She did not think Sarek meant it that way however.

She could feel him building up to say something quite confrontational when Amanda spoke and broke the tension. 'Well! You can't expect ten years of arguing to suddenly go away overnight, but I'm sure you'll both sort this out eventually.'

Sarek and Spock both turned to regard her. 'Why don't we eat lunch? You two can continue your little discussion later on when you've had a chance to cool your heels.'

She felt a tiny hint of bemusement from Spock at his mother's turn of phrase. 'cool your heels'. His anger at his father slowly drained away.

'Good idea Amanda.' she replied enthusiastically.


	12. Chapter 12: Spock

AN: **  
**

You have **Lamb's Ear** to thank for this angst-fest of a chapter being of a better standard than usual!

* * *

**Spock**

A week passed by swiftly. Spock had obtained a leave of absence from Starfleet and remained at the Embassy in San Francisco with his parents. He had been required to appear before the Admiralty board with James Kirk for a debriefing, but otherwise had been temporarily relieved of his duties. All those who'd survived the attack upon Vulcan were given leave or put of reduced duties. Owing to the fact that 87% of the senior year was deceased, fourth year classes had been suspended. Nyota therefore remained with him at the Embassy for the most part, waiting.

She found the empty fourth year dormitory too depressing to spend her time there. She and Gaila U'Aidat were the only fourth year communications majors who had survived. Their friends and classmates had not returned from Vulcan. There were only 7 Starfleet survivors of the Battle of Vulcan excluding the crew of the _Enterprise_.

There were 82 civilian survivors - those who'd been beamed aboard the _Enterprise _by Dr McCoy and his medical team - but the only Starfleet personnel who'd lived were those who'd been upon Zuberi Uhura's shuttle. Those of the task force who'd survived the initial battle amidst the wreckage had died when the gravity well of the singularity inside Vulcan had swallowed the planet.

As such the only complete record of the battle was contained in the memory banks of Zuberi's shuttle. According to the shuttle's sensor banks, the task forced had arrived out of warp staggered over 3 seconds. The 'battle' had lasted in total 47 seconds between the first and last salvo fired. The second and third ships to exit warp had lasted less than ten seconds each. The data indicated that 97% of the crew on the ships would have been lost within a standard minute. The _USS __Farragut_ had been lost with all hands 37 seconds after exiting warp. Its Engineering deck had suffered a direct hit resulting in a failure of the matter and anti-matter containment fields in the warp core. Spock had reviewed that particular information with focused intent. Whenever he heard 'Farragut' or came across it in a report, the word evoked a powerful and unpleasant response in him.

Spock felt the loss of the cadets, many of whom he'd instructed over their four years of study, to be most unfortunate. They had been on the cusp of graduation, of beginning careers. That four years of study should culminate in a battle which lasted all of 47 seconds was a great... waste. Still, he did not think over much upon the Starfleet loses, he was too occupied with the civilian ones.

The High Council was occupied with obtaining accurate census data on the remaining Vulcans so the most logical decisions could be made with regards to their plans for the future. Spock assisted his father and the other councillors to the best of his ability.

His mother was performing many of Sarek's duties as Ambassador in concert with Ambassador Uhura, with Nyota kept busy by helping both women. For the most part this consisted of diplomatic formalities - responding to communiqués and offers of aid from throughout the Federation and ensuring no one was offended by their overtures being ignored or handled with Vulcan brusqueness.

At his mother's insistence, the afternoon after their return to Earth, Sarek had accompanied her down to the gates of the Embassy. They had accepted the well-wishes and condolences of the crowds that had amassed there in an odd display of human compassion that made him and undoubtedly every other Vulcan at the Embassy, decidedly uncomfortable. Images of his parents solemnly inspecting the towering offerings of flowers and speaking to the people standing vigil were replicated over the subspace news releases.

Ambassador Uhura remarked that she received many offers of aid from people who made direct reference to Sarek and Amanda and the holo releases. Evidently they made a poignant image.

Spock was gratified to realise that his initial estimate of 10,000 survivors of Vulcan was incorrect. A mining colony in the asteroid belt beyond Vulcan had escaped notice as had the monasteries upon T'Khut and the number of Vulcans living on other federation planets and colonies was greater than Spock had realised.

Also, in the decade he had been on earth, Vulcan High Command had given several grants to the Vulcan Science Academy with regards to research they were conducting on more efficient anti-matter reactors. Since such experimentation was dangerous, an off-planet facility had been fabricated upon Delta Vega, which was otherwise unpopulated save the small Starfleet outpost he'd marooned James Kirk near. 121 Vulcan scientists, physicists and engineers for the most part, along with their families and supporting technical and administrative staff numbering some 2,419 in total had survived.

The scientific outpost provided a relief of a personal nature to Spock. Save the few Vulcan founded colonies, such as Vulcanis Lunar Colony - for the most part Vulcans living off planet on mixed Federation colony worlds were of the middle and lower classes. Those who'd risen through the ranks of society – the most gifted scientists, artisans and philosophers – Vulcan's cultural and spiritual leaders - had rarely left the planet and had consequently been lost with it.

The Vulcan Academy of Science outpost in comparison had been home to some of its most distinguished alumni. V'tosh of the high clans for the most part, but all exceedingly intelligent by Vulcan standards regardless of their backgrounds. There would no doubt be candidates more suited to serving in a reformed High Command and other governing Councils than he amongst them.

It seemed possible for the first time since his return to Earth that he might be able to both do his duty to his people _and _Nyota. He had been purposefully avoiding thinking upon such things, but the fact remained that a career in Starfleet would be illogical given the current situation. He was uncertain of what that would mean for Nyota and himself. If he asked her, he knew that she would also resign her commission, but it had been her life-long goal to serve aboard a starship, to explore the galaxy.

He was uncertain if he could ask such a thing of her. Other options remained. Were she a Vulcan woman a period of separation - perhaps several years but hopefully less with the pool of skilled Vulcans from the Science Outpost - whilst she served aboard the _Enterprise _and he served his people, would not be considered unusual. Such an arrangement did not seem satisfactory to him however, and he doubted she would be any more enthused, but it seemed preferable to having her resign her commission on his account.

The other option was, of course, _p'pil'lay. _Divorce. The severing of their marriage bond.

Spock was aware that it would be appropriate to offer Nyota all options, including divorce, given his inability to conform to their unspoken agreement with regards to their marriage. When he had asked her to be his, declared _koon-ut so'lik _he had thought he would be able to offer her something more acceptable to a human woman, a marriage not dissimilar to a human one. He had not spoken of her needing to abandon her career or endue years away on missions alone for his sake.

Nyota loved him, deeply, of that he had no doubt. He did not think she would desire a severing of the bond, but he was honour bound to offer it to her.

He needed to discuss their future with her soon. Starfleet Command had formalised his commission as First Officer of the _Enterprise _the day before, a commission he did not mean to accept, and Spock knew Nyota would likely receive her own official orders today. She was at an awards ceremony at the Academy in honour of the crew of the _Enterprise._ James Kirk was being given a commendation, promotion and command of the ship as Christopher – now Admiral – Pike's relief.

Spock had spoken to his friend only once since his return to Earth, but it had been a satisfactory conversation. Number One had been assisting Pike, 'playing nursemaid' she'd complained, and the more advanced medical facilities on Earth offered the promise of getting him on his feet again. Apart from good news with regards to his injuries, he'd also confirmed that all the cadets that had served aboard the _Enterprise _were being granted commendations and their graduate diplomas in recognition for their admirable service. Pike had also inferred that those who'd received field promotions and whose performance in said posts was deemed satisfactory, were being granted permanent promotion and commission at that rank.

Pike hadn't come right out and said it, but he'd plainly implied that Nyota, Lieutenant Sulu, Ensign Chekov, Lieutenant Commander Scott and Doctor McCoy would be offered the senior staff positions aboard the ship under Kirk. Whilst all had proven themselves capable, Spock thought grouping so many inexperienced officers under an equally inexperienced Captain unwise. It would have been more logical to split them between several ships. Pike had partially agreed but seemed to think they'd 'do just fine.'

Spock found himself deeply conflicted. The thought of serving aboard the _Enterprise _with Nyota appealed to him immensely. He'd even developed a grudging,_ acceptance_ he supposed was the correct term, for James Kirk. It didn't approach the respect he held for Admiral Pike or the friendship he'd felt for Zuberi Uhura, but he sensed that despite their differences, there was potential for friendship between them. If Kirk could exhibit a little more restraint and maturity. Or stop being such an 'insufferable ass' as Nyota more colourfully put it. She had not forgiven the man for his behaviour and Spock did not blame her. As it was his own acceptance was based upon certain suspicions he had regarding one 'Ambassador Spock'.

He felt Nyota crossing the city from the Academy back towards the Embassy at 16:27 hours. He had spent the afternoon assisting Okosu T'Pau and Osasu Sosik in assembling candidates to replace the last Minister of Security who'd died in Shi'Kahr. The most suitable replacements were the few high ranking ministry operatives and administrators who'd been assigned off planet. Since Spock was not a member of the High Council, he merely offered advice, but given the sheer volume of appointments the Council had to make, the elders appeared to appreciate any means to enable them to come to logical and sound decisions swiftly.

Already replacement councillors had been appointed to the High Council and several key government positions had been filled. High Command had yet to be reformed, but Spock gathered that the High Council was waiting until they were certain they had a complete census of those who survived before making such important appointments.

As such, the Embassy was steadily filling up with what was more or less the Vulcan government. Spock made his way from the meeting rooms he had been talking with T'Pau and Sosik in. He passed many Vulcans. Seemingly in response to the crisis, they had all dressed far more elaborately and traditionally then was the norm for Vulcans off-planet. Spock himself wore robes suitable for an audience with venerated ones such as T'Pau and Sosik, but compared to what many of the politicians, ministers and assorted diplomatic and administrative staff were wearing, his garb was quite plain.

Feeling Nyota approaching the building, he made his way down to the foyer to greet her. Given the influx of visitors and guests at the Embassy, he suspected she might be detained from entering and subjected to security checks. Sure enough he exited a turbolift to the ground floor foyer to find his wife being scanned with a hand held security tri-coder. She was wearing her dress uniform. Spock noted her Lieutenant's stripes. It appeared that she'd been officially granted her commission as he suspected. She met his eyes across the room. She smiled and raised an eyebrow at the thorough search she was being given, but he felt more amusement then irritation from her at the attention.

Spock made his way through the milling throng to the security desk.

'I doubt very much that the Lieutenant poses a security threat.' he remarked conversationally to the Vulcan guard attending Nyota.

'I am certain you are correct Sir. It is protocol however - all visitors are to be scanned.' the guard replied quite pleasantly for a Vulcan. Spock imagined he'd been posted on Earth for some time and was therefore more accustomed to being terran in his manners.

The guard turned back to Nyota. 'It is a requirement of entry to the Vulcan Consulate that all visitors provide valid identification and state the nature of their business.'

Nyota nodded and smiled. 'Of course.' She continued to find the situation humorous.

Spock addressed the guard once more. 'I assure you this is quite unnecessary.'

'_Forgive me honoured sir - I am sure your Starfleet colleague has legitimate business within the building, but my instructions were clear.'_ The guard replied in Vuhlkansu.

Again impressed with the guard's tact Spock decided to let him go about his business. He exchanged a look with Nyota, raising an eyebrow in a gesture comparable to a human shrug.

The guard turned back to a bemused Nyota and handed her a PADD. 'Please sign your name ma'am.'

Nyota did so and handed back the PADD.

'Thank you. Your Starfleet ID will be sufficient to verify your identity.' The guard continued.

Nyota obligingly handed over the small chip for the guard to scan. The guard did so automatically and Nyota's file appeared on his computer console.

Handing back the chip, the guard continued by rote, 'Please state the purpose of your visit to the Vulcan Consulate Lieutenant—' the guard glanced at the computer screen obviously intending to use her name, '—_S'chn T'gai…' _his voice trailed off in apparent shock and glanced sharply at Spock in dawning realisation.

Nyota was clearly trying not to laugh. 'I'm visiting my husband.' she replied gesturing elegantly towards Spock with her right hand.

The guard suddenly bowed. Sharply. Twice. _'Forgive my ignorance Okosu S'chn T'gai.'_

He addressed Nyota formally rather than by her given name. Those nearby, Vulcan and human alike turned to regard him curiously.

The guard spun and repeated the gesture towards Spock, bowing once more. '_Osasu Spock.'_

Spock nodded slightly to indicate that he had not taken offence.

Nyota was smiling. _'You perform your duties with admirable thoroughness. May I now proceed?'_

'_Of course Okosu S'chn T'gai.' _he bowed again, just his head this time.

Nyota kindly returned the gesture. _'Thank you.'_

Spock offered Nyota his fingers in an _ozh'esta_. She returned the gesture, falling in beside him half a step behind in the _telik'rak (bonded-position)._ It was a small thing, having her walk at his side openly as his wife, but it bought him satisfaction. Across their joined fingertips her warm thoughts cleared into words that sparked with bright terran humour.

_/That poor man. I think he nearly had a heart attack./_

He was pleased that the guard's actions had not offended her.

_/I *did* attempt to offer clarification./ _Spock replied in the same manner.

Spock noted a marked increase in the attention he received with Nyota walking at his side. Since their behaviour was unremarkable, he deduced the interest stemmed from general curiosity rather than any specific cause. He ignored it accordingly and felt Nyota do likewise.

They returned to his father's private residence. Nyota's good humour faded steadily as they made their way there. By the time Spock had followed her into the room they had been sharing, he could feel her trepidation clearly. Obviously despite his efforts to contain his own misgivings about their situation, she was cognizant of them.

He was therefore somewhat surprised when instead of demanding clarification as he had expected, she instead kissed him.

Spock's confusion and surprise quickly gave way to pleasure and growing desire under Nyota's attentions. She kissed him ardently, letting him feel her desire for him through their entwined fingers and their bond with her customary lack of restraint. Spock felt her intentions although she thoughtfully clarified them for him _/make love to me Spock./_

The words were passed from her mind to his via their fingers. Her mouth was occupied with kissing him, a task she apparently deemed more important than vocalising her wishes out loud.

Spock hesitated. He felt… uneasy. As if faced as they were by a decision of import with regards to their future together, he should not lie with her until it had been spoken of. He pulled away from her slightly, intending to voice his concern. She spoke out loud this time.

'_No. nononono_.' he heard panic in her voice, a hint of fear or dread. She pressed her brow against his and curled a hand against the side of his face, holding him to her. 'I want you to make love to me _now_, before we speak of things that might break my heart.'

Her words froze him. It was apparent she had been thinking along similar lines as he and come to similar, unsatisfying, conclusions. The thought should have pleased him, but he found he did not. There were many things he felt, wished to say to her in that moment, but he did not have the words. He spoke her name.

'_Nyota_.'

He did not sound Vulcan at all. He sounded human, emotional and confusing. Somehow she understood. The single utterance managed to convey to her all he felt.

'_Spock.'_

He heard his feelings echoed in her own choked voice. Love, sadness, resignation, desire.

He pressed his lips against her face, a kiss upon the cool curve her cheek. He tasted her tears there. Moisture. Salt.

He felt too much. He _ached._

He kissed her again. Again. Her cheek, her brow, her mouth, whispered words against her skin between them. _'Dan'taluhk ashal-veh. Ashayam._ _k'hat'n'dlawa. Ashau nash-veh du. Dash-tor nash-veh t'du tusa. Sanoi. Pehkau. (most-precious darling-one. Beloved. Half-of-my-heart. I love you. Your tears injure me. Please. Stop.)'_

His words seemed to have the opposite effect to that intended. She shook in his arms, her breath drawn in gasps, tears running down her face. _'Sanoi Nyota (please).'_

She was trying to control herself, he felt her struggle. Her fingers pressed into his face firmly, tilted his head so that her lips brushed against hers as she spoke.

'_Kiss me and I will stop.'_

It was some time before her words were proven true and Spock needed to do more than simply kiss her. Whatever turmoil their minds were in it seemed their bodies were unaffected however. Spock pulled off Nyota's uniform and let his robes join it on the floor. He dismissed thoughts of Starfleet and duty with them and focused simply upon Nyota. She was beautiful, perfect, and she was his. At least for now.

He joined their minds as he joined their bodies and revelled in the sensation of being one with her. The ache receded. There was no room for anything else when he was so filled with her.

Afterwards they lay together on the bed. The sheets and bedding had been shoved aside and they lay with nothing between them, limbs entwined so that as much of their bodies as possible touched.

Spock did not speak. He counted her heartbeats, her breaths.

'You will resign your commission.' she stated. Her voice was calm, her emotions oddly muted. Slim brown fingers were idly tracing patterns against his skin. Spock did not think she would cry. He was uncertain if this pleased or displeased him. It was unexpected.

'My people face extinction. It is logical to resign my commission and help rebuild our race.' Spock replied.

'Logical and honourable.' Nyota added distractedly.

Honour was not one of the reasons behind his decision, but he understood her meaning. She referred to self-sacrifice. A trait held in high regard by humans. 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.' he agreed.

She fell silent again.

She was not reacting in the manner he had anticipated.

He recalled her anger when he had returned to Earth after his posting aboard the _USS Nelson _and she had thought he intended to deny his feelings for her. Nyota had yelled at him, come very close to physically striking him. He had not expected such anger in this instance, but he had expected her response to be as emotional. Instead she was calm. Resigned. It was unlike her.

The silence stretched and Spock knew he must break it. That they must reach a conclusion regarding their future. But he found it hard to speak of their options. He knew he had to consult her, that now was the correct time for such a discussion, and yet the words would not come. They clung to one another within their bond and they could not physically be any closer, and yet he felt a terrible yawning distance growing between them.

He was _hurting _her. He knew this. Felt it. He had hurt her in the past, but when he had done so it had been unwittingly. He had not known then that she loved him, had not known how he hurt her. What he did now would be a wilful act. He knew precisely how distraught she would be. To do such a thing went against his every instinct, both human and Vulcan.

Instead of speaking logically, reasonably, of their options, he found himself voicing his feelings. 'I do not know what to do. I do not wish to hurt you, yet I know all acceptable paths ahead of me will do so.'

Nyota was silent for 24 seconds. Spock felt her thinking upon his words. 'Speak Spock. Tell me what you intend.'

'To resign my commission to Starfleet and aid my people in rebuilding our race.' he replied quickly.

'And how will you do this? You are a scientist, a Starfleet officer, not a diplomat or a politician.' There was no censure in her tone, she simply wished to understand his precise intent.

'Initially I will continue such tasks as I have been performing since our return to Earth - help in the establishment of a functioning governing body for the survivors of Vulcan. After that the Council intends to establish a new colony. There will be many tasks to which my skills will be suited throughout such an undertaking.'

'So you will remain here and aid your father and then travel to the new colony.' she surmised.

'Yes.'

'And what would you have of me Spock?' there was a pleading note to her voice.

'The most logical course of action would be for you to remain aboard the _Enterprise.' _Spock replied.

'This is your preference?' she asked, her voice cool once more. Her tone gave him a sense of misgiving.

'No. My preference would be to remain on the _Enterprise _with you. But I cannot.' he responded, attempting to make perfectly clear his own personal desires.

'Five years is a long time.' she pointed out. To a human it was indeed. Humans were highly social. It would be unnatural for a human to consider such a long separation from a spouse. It would more or less constitute an estrangement.

Spock swallowed. He knew he had to say it, make the offer though he knew she would not accept it. The words felt strange in his mouth. 'I could arrange for a _p'pil'lay _to be performed.'

The sudden cold sweep of pain that engulfed Nyota at his words made his breath catch in its intensity. She froze in his arms, turned to ice in his mind and pulled herself apart from him within their bond, a sudden wrenching movement that was almost painful. He took a deep breath and he braced himself for her ire.

He felt her anger, but it was cold and contained.

'It would be logical.' she agreed in a voice he barely recognised.

Spock felt his heart lurch and then increase its tempo. Though he had convinced himself he would free her if she asked it of him, he had not truly considered it a possibility. 'Logical in what way?' he inquired, not managing to keep his voice even remotely calm.

'You are a member of an endangered species.' she said, quoting his words. He could feel her pushing her anger down, trying to remain aloof to her emotions. Her restraint did not please him.

He frowned. 'I do not understand the implication of that statement upon our marriage.'

Nyota was silent for a period of 38 seconds. Her anger and despair rose and fell within in great waves. He felt her master them somewhat, calm herself.

'It is widely believed that humans are descended from only 600 breeding pairs.' she remarked. Spock assumed she made reference to the commonly held theory that a disaster of some sort had nearly wiped out the human race some 70,000 standard years previously. There was significant evidence to support the theory, most obviously the exceedingly low amount of genetic diversity in the human race as opposed to other sentient species.

The situation was comparable on some level with that now faced by the Vulcans. She made mention of it in reassurance? He did not understand why she would change the topic they discussed so abruptly however. Perhaps a coping mechanism because she found the subject matter too distressing?

'I am familiar with that theory.' he replied.

Nyota nodded. 'With logic and science to aid you, I cannot see how the Vulcans could fail to rebuild their race.'

Although accurate, Spock found her comments highly confusing. 'I agree with your assessment, however, to clarify our previous discussion - you wish to sever our bond Nyota?'

'Of course I don't _wish _it.' the sudden acid in her voice was almost reassuring after her coolness. 'I accept the _logic _of it however.'

Spock blinked. There was a growing sense of dread, no – terror – within him. He swallowed. His throat felt dry and constricted. Nyota extracted herself from him, pulled her body from his as she had pulled her mind. Spock sat in the bed and watched as she gathered her clothing. Something terrible was occurring. Some miscalculation he had made, something he had done, had led to this situation. Nyota took her things into the bathroom.

She closed and locked the door after her. Never before had she placed a locked door between them. Although she held herself apart, he still sensed her pain and anger. He heard her running a shower. The noise of the water did not quite drown out the sound of her crying. He wished to comfort her, but was powerless to do so. He sat motionless upon the bed for a period of 12.3 minutes. She thought it logical to sever their bond. She did not wish to be his any longer. His panic was so great he was forced to resort to a meditative breathing exercise to calm himself.

When she emerged she was fully dressed, her hair neatly styled and her face cold and still. He had donned a loose pair of meditation pants but otherwise remained unmoved. She met his eyes only fleetingly before glancing past him.

'From my understanding _p'pil'lay _is brief ritual performed by a healer or elder?' she asked.

'Affirmative.' Spock replied, at a loss as to what to say or do to fix whatever was occurring between them. He reached for her within their bond but she was still pulling away, keeping herself distant to him.

'Are there any who can perform such a thing amidst the Vulcans residing in the Embassy?' she asked.

There were several. T'Pau for one. 'There are. May I inquire as to your desire for such alacrity in this matter?' he was aware that his voice was emotional, but found it impossible to smooth entirely.

'The _Enterprise _will be leaving spacedock in two days' time. I will be required to report to my post no later than 08:00 pre-launch which means I am only available this evening and tomorrow.'

'There is risk to _p'pil'lay._' Spock said. 'It has never been performed upon a human.'

'And sometimes Vulcans go mad or die. Yes I'm aware of the risks Spock.' her tone was clipped. Not dissimilar to that she used in conversation with James Kirk.

It was difficult but Spock forced himself to admit his feelings on the matter. 'I would prefer not to take such risks. I would not hold you to our marriage if you desire to be free of it,' saying that, saying he would let her be another's made him feel ill. '- a human divorce would be safer.' And at least then he would still have a connection to her, something she could not share with another.

'_No._ We married in the Vulcan manner, we will divorce in the same way.' she insisted.

'That is not a valid argument.' he remarked.

'I don't want it!' she replied, her voice rising in both pitch and volume.

'Clarify.'

'I don't want to _feel _you if we aren't…' she took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her throat. Her voice was very soft when she continued. 'I can't be bonded to you and not married to you.' she shook her head. 'It would be torture.'

Spock could both feel her distress and hear it in her words. 'You feel your distress at our separation will be exacerbated by the presence of our bond? This is why you wish to sever it?'

'Yes.'

He could not fault her logic. 'If you believe divorce will cause you less emotional distress then a long separation, then I will accept your decision on the matter.' The moment he had said them, he wished to take the words back.

'I want to do it now.' she said.

Spock frowned. 'Immediately?'

'Yes. Surely some elder can spare five minutes to free _S'chn T'gai Spohkh_ from his illogical marriage to his human female.' There was much bitterness in her tone. 'They'll probably form a queue.'

'I would prefer to wait until tomorrow.' No not tomorrow. He would prefer to wait indefinitely.

'I would prefer not to.' she replied, her lips pursing.

Spock regarded her, felt her determination. He forced himself to speak. 'Very well. I will locate an elder.'

Nyota crossed the room and sat down at the small table near the window. She crossed her arms and looked out the window, avoiding his gaze, dismissing him with her body language.

Spock left the room and called T'Pau upon the console in the sitting room. She informed him that she was currently occupied but that Elder Sosik had intended to remain at the Embassy that evening if his need of an elder was urgent. Spock thanked her and contacted Sosik. The Elder agreed to his request readily enough.

It would only take him minutes to travel to Sarek's apartments from his own rooms. Spock returned to Nyota. She still sat near the window, motionless. When he entered she looked up at him expectantly.

'Elder Sosik will be here momentarily.' he informed her.

She nodded and rose to her feet. 'Where would be appropriate to receive him?' she inquired.

'The sitting room would be sufficient.'

'Very well.'

She brushed past him, cold and stiff, like a forgery of herself.

Spock hastily pulled on a robe and shoes then joined her in the sitting room.

Elder Sosik arrived 4.3 minutes later.

They exchanged greetings.

Spock informed the elder of their need. He seemed surprised though he quickly masked it. He spoke to them at length before offering his aid. Had they discussed other options? Where they aware of the risks? Would they not prefer to wait until T'Pau could perform the ritual?

Nyota's answers were cool and pointed. Definite.

They knelt before the elder as they had once knelt before T'Sul. Spock felt as if he were watching someone else. He felt the warm papery fingers of Sosik at his temple. Felt the uncomfortable echo of the three-way meld between the healer, Nyota and himself.

Sosik did something, made some deft movement within his mind and suddenly Nyota was gone from him. Instinctually he reached after her, reaching, reaching, but she was gone, there was no trace of her. The elder's hand slipped from his face. He was alone. He had not realised how much of her he had carried within him. It felt as if half his mind, half his thoughts and very being had suddenly darked and died leaving a gaping blackness. It was intolerable. It was excruciating.

He heard a soft thud beside him.

Nyota had fallen on her side. He could not feel her, and for a few seconds he did not know if she had merely fainted or died. He pulled her onto her back.

There was red blood on her face. The smell of it made him nauseous. His fingers skimmed over her features seeking a wound. There was none, the blood came from her nose. Beneath his fingers he sensed the blur of her thoughts. They reassured him.

'She is not permanently damaged.' Elder Sosik remarked coolly. Spock ignored him. He noted that his breathing was uneven and his heart rate accelerated. He did not attempt to regulate them.

'Nyota.'

Her thoughts flickered. On some level she heard him.

'Nyota. Nyota please open your eyes.'

He inhaled through his nose to clear it, there was a sudden excess of mucus in his nostrils. Something ran down his cheek. Warm liquid. It tickled. He pressed his fingers to his skin, expecting them to come away green. Instead there was a clear liquid on his fingertips. He stared in disbelief. He blinked. Felt tears run down his face. He was _crying._ He had not cried in 23.8 years. Vulcans did not _cry_.

Nyota lay unmoving, bleeding, and he was weeping. 3.2 hours previously she had greeted him with a smile and called him husband.

He should not have agreed to _p'pil'lay. _It had been an illogical risk. Nyota had been angry when she made her choice. He should have insisted they wait until the next day, given her long enough to think on it calmly.

His father and mother were both reaching out to him though their bonds but he ignored them, his entire focus on Nyota. The urge to press his fingers to her psi points and meld with her, if only to ensure she was unharmed, was immense. There was a vacuum within him that was focused upon her. A relentless need to feel her mind against his consumed him. The brief flashes, the distant feel of her he received through his hands on her face both soothed and tempted him. She was injured however, he did not know what a meld would do, and clearly he did not have her permission.

'Nyota, Nyota _please_. _awaken._'

Again those thoughts shifted, he could feel her struggling to wake up, reaching out towards him.

He heard voices. His parents.

His mother was suddenly on her knees beside him. 'Spock what has happened?'

He heard her words, understood her question, but could not divide his attention to answer her. _'Nyota. Nyota. Awaken.'_

'What has occurred?' his father's voice.

'_Your son requested p'pil'lay.' _Elder Sosik.

'_You risked such a thing on a human?'_

'_I was very clear in the risks. The human female was adamant.'_

'What can we do? Does she need a doctor?'

'She is physically unharmed. I will have T'Pau come. Perhaps she can undo whatever Sosik has done.'

'What of Spock? He's in such pain. He's _crying _Sarek. I have not seen him cry since he was child.'

Nyota shifted slightly in his arms. He did not recall when he had gathered her into his lap. Her thoughts beat against the barrier between them like a million tiny wings. The urge to meld with her consumed him. He was uncertain how long he stayed like that, sat on the floor with Nyota's limp body in his arms, willing her to awaken. At some point a new voice joined his parents. Oko-mekh-il. T'Pau.

She stood beside him, the folds and layers of her robes brushing cool and soft against him. A hand near his face. _'Spohkh. Your thoughts. Give them to me.'_

Listlessly he tilted his head so she could press her fingers to his psi points. He barely registered her warm touch and the cool probe of her mind. His mind was in tatters. _k'hat'n'dlawa_ was gone. Half his heart, half his soul had been ripped from him. For once he didn't care what his stoic grandmother might think of his emotional, _human_ weakness. He made no effort to guard his thoughts from her. His Nyota was gone. She was supposed to be with him, he'd known it the moment he first met her. He'd recognised her. Something inside him had awoken at the sound of her voice. There was only her.

His oko-mekh-il spoke in his thoughts._ /Shan'hal'lak.(The Engulfment)/_

_/Ah. Ashayam. K'hat'n'dlawa (Yes. Beloved. Half-of-my-heart)/_

Spock felt gentle cool reassurance from his grandmother. _/I will make this right Spohkh. I will give you back your ashayam. Be calm/_

She withdrew from him and Spock was once more alone with the aching emptiness. He heard his parents and T'Pau speaking again and then his father helped T'Pau kneel beside him. The elderly woman gently took his hand in her own and removed it from Nyota's face. He heard her thoughts once more. _/Be calm Spohkh./_

She released him and pressed wizened fingers to Nyota's cheek and temple. Nyota's face slackened, her breathing evened. Spock could vaguely feel _something_ happening from where he gripped Nyota's hand and then her eyelashes flickered, her eyes shifting beneath their lids. T'Pau removed her hand and sat back.

Nyota blinked. Once. Twice. Her eyes opened. Brown eyes. _dan'vansurik (most-beautiful)._

He could not breathe correctly. His body was attempting to simultaneously gasp as deeply as possible and hold his breath. For a moment she simply looked at him, and he felt her love through his fingertips, muted, distant, but reassuringly real. And then she gasped. Her back arched and she made a terrible noise of intense pain.

He could feel her agony through his fingertips. Something had been torn away from her, she was bleeding, dying. There was a throbbing pain deep inside her, a ragged wound. Her fingers clenched where he held her hand. She sobbed, cried, took a great shuddering breath. Her lips formed a word he heard only through his fingers.

_/Spohkh!/_ His name. pleading.

'_Nyota!'_

'_Meld with her. Now Spohkh.'_ His grandmother's voice. A forceful command.

He pressed his fingers to her face. He did not have to say the words. Before his fingers were even fully aligned their minds had blurred into one. _Relief._ It was instantaneous and consuming. They were whole once more. _Nyota. Spock. Ashayam. Beloved._ Her fingers were in his hair, drawing him closer so their foreheads pressed together.

His breathing calmed and his heart rate slowed. The pain was gone, just a memory, but it took some time for their thoughts to recover from the shock of the bond being severed.

When he felt relatively calm once more Spock let Nyota feel his thoughts on the _p'pil'lay. /I will die before I am parted from you again in this manner k'hat'n'dlawa./_

_/Yes. Never again. Never parted. We-are-one. My-heart-my-love-my-dearest-one./_

It seemed he and Nyota were in complete agreement in this regard. Still, he felt her sadness, her fear. It would be painful being parted from him and knowing he was with another. She wondered if she would feel it through their bond.

Shock.

Another?

She tried to push the thought away but he held onto it. He heard his words from earlier in the evening about rebuilding his race. His preference that she not stay with him. His talk of divorce.

She had thought he intended to reproduce with a Vulcan female.

The thought dumbfounded him.

_/No. There will never be another. Only you. Only Nyota./_

He felt her wariness. She did not quite believe him, though she wanted too. _/Why do you not wish me with you then? Why did you speak of p'pil'lay?/_

He felt her hurt. Her confusion.

His reasons were too complicated. Too difficult to form into coherent thoughts so he simply pushed the big mess towards her. Let her feel first hand. She plucked apart the tangled knot with practised ease. Humans were accustomed to such turmoil. At length his reasons were laid plain before her.

He did not wish her to sacrifice her happiness for him. He did not wish her to suffer, to be lonely. He could not be the husband she deserved, so he must let her find another if she wanted.

Choked, sobbing laughter bubbled out of her. Her thoughts were awash with a despairing amusement. 'Oh Spock. We are _idiots.'_

'A succinct assessment.' T'Pau agreed in a cool voice.

Spock lifted his head from Nyota's and straightened. His parents and grandmother were seated nearby drinking spice tea. It appeared a significant period of time had passed. They regarded he and Nyota intently. T'Pau's lips were pursed. Spock recalled her earlier gentleness in mild confusion. He felt Nyota's own thoughts mirror his own. His grandmother had been very kind to her when she'd melded with her. Her cold behaviour now was greatly at odds with that.

'_Tel-has-mar_ _(Bond sickness)_ would have driven you both mad in a matter of days. Not to mention that the shock of _p'pil'lay _nearly killed Nyota outright.' she said, her tone sharp.

'Oko-mekh-il. Thank you for you aid.'

'The next time you disagree with your wife, do as your father does Spohkh, buy her a frivolous gift. Don't offer to _divorce _her.'

Spock blinked. 'Yes Oko-mekh-il.'

'And you Nyota.' She turned her keen gaze upon Nyota. 'Having melded with you it is now apparent to me that you have more sense than my grandson in these matters. I trust you will make better use of that in future.'

'Yes Okosu T'Pau.' Nyota replied meekly.

'As Spohkh's wife you may address me as Oko-mekh-il.' T'Pau corrected.

Spock observed his father's eyes dart to the side to look at his mother in surprise at her pronouncement.

Nyota seemed slightly dazed by all that had occurred, but aware of the significance of T'Pau's words. She'd just been accepted by his clan's matriarch. 'Thank you… oko-mekh-il.'

T'Pau nodded regally before turning once more to face Spock. 'Spohkh. Your wife requires rest. A human should not have to endure _p'pil'lay _or _Tel'has-mar.' _Her tone clearly implied it was _his_ fault that she had. She was correct of course._ '_Attend her._'_

Dismissed, Spohkh rose to his feet, Nyota in his arms. He inclined his head towards his parents and grandmother by way of parting. Nyota did not know what to say, felt awkward at being carried. Before she could insist he put her down Spock turned and left the room. The moment they were out of sight of his relations she relaxed against him.

He lay her on the bed still unmade from their earlier use of it, and retrieved a cloth from the bathroom. Carefully he cleaned her face of the dried blood from her nosebleed. She was tired enough that she let him without trying to do it herself. He removed her uniform, folding it neatly, then took off his robe and slid into the bed behind her in his loose meditation pants. Of their own accord his arms wrapped around her, pulled her tightly against him, small and warm and perfect.

Her hair was soft and smelt of her favoured flowery Terran shampoo. Her heart beat at 72 bpm beneath his hand. Through their bond he felt the reassuring warm presence of her mind curled beside him. She was safe. She was alive. His hold on her tightened just the same, as if he could somehow undo the pain he had caused earlier by protecting her now. Illogical.

The _p'pil'lay _had left him feeling strange. Uncomfortable. His head ached slightly. Nyota twisted in his arms to face him. He could feel an echo of his own discomfort in her. She pressed herself close to him, wrapping an arm around his neck and clutching at his hand with the other. The connection of his fingers bought mild relief to the discomfort.

He felt her words inside his mind. _/tel'has-mar (bond-sickness)?/_

_/Yes./ _Guilt at the pain and danger he had exposed her to welled up in him.

_/no no. I was being stubborn. I insisted. I knew I was being reckless./_

She lifted his hand up to her face. _/meld with me?/_

He let his fingers seek out her psi points, let his thoughts sink into hers. The ache in his head vanished taking the last discomfort with it. Nyota sighed against him in relief.

His eyelids were blinking, closing without conscious thought. He was tired. Tired in a way he rarely felt as a Vulcan. Nyota's breathing was already evening, her thoughts slowing as she succumbed to slumber. Spock let his eyes close and joined her.


	13. Chapter 13: Nyota

AN: Again you have **Lamb's Ear **to thank for saving you from weird grammar and typos.

* * *

**Nyota**

Spock was asleep beside her when Nyota awoke. His arms were wrapped around her and she could feel his mind where his fingers were pressed against her skin. His thoughts were glacial, hardly recognisable as thoughts at all. She recalled him saying Vulcans rarely dreamed and judging from the strange near hibernation she felt from him now, she believed it.

It was a novel experience to be awake while he rested. He slept so much less than her that she rarely observed him sleeping. She tilted her head back so she could see him. His face was relaxed, similar to the expression he wore when meditating, all traces of tension drained from him.

It was still dark, but the pale blue light of predawn illuminated the room slightly. She guessed it was maybe 04:30 hours. Perhaps 5. She was a little out of whack with seasons and she wasn't blessed with Spock's eerily accurate time keeping abilities. She lay in bed for maybe half an hour, dozing and day dreaming, enjoying being in Spock's arms. Her thoughts tried to spiral back to the painful events of the night before, but she valiantly shoved those memories aside. By ignoring those thoughts however, she left herself open to other painful subjects. Her papa. She was ill-prepared for the intense wave of absolute sorrow that engulfed her as she thought of him.

She'd suffered mental trauma the night before. She'd melded with three different Vulcans, had her bond to Spock forcibly removed and then reformed – in essence she'd been divorced and married in the Vulcan sense within a matter of minutes – and the violence of it had jarred whatever Spock had done that had been enabling her to keep her grief for her father at bay. It was no longer separated from her, held apart, it was just _there._

_Hurting._

She found herself thinking about the warm enveloping wall of him when he'd hug her. The smell of his cologne. She could hear exactly how his voice would sound if he'd been alive to answer a comm call from her. _'Nyota my little star!'_

He'd always sounded so pleased and surprised to hear from her.

She'd not hear those words again. Her papa had been the only one to use them and he would never call her his 'little star' again. The thought that no one would ever call her by that silly nickname was suddenly inconceivably terrible. Her eyes burnt with tears.

Her papa was gone.

She could see his face, that huge grin of his, the way his lips would purse slightly right before he laughed, the silly face he would make when he was teasing her and her sister about '_Booooys!' _and the high pitched voice he would affect to do so. His _ridiculous _dressing gown. The silk one covered in cranes and pink flowers. The way he would sneak up behind her mama when she was making breakfast with a conspiratorial wink for her and Zanta and tickle her, making Tamu shriek.

She was crying, tears burning her cheeks and her breath coming in gulps. Spock awoke and she felt a moment of guilt for not getting out of bed to have her emotional meltdown – for crying all over him, but he felt exactly the source of her sorrow and simply pulled her closer. She could feel he was uncomfortable, that he found her tears almost... shocking, but his arms slid around her, reassuringly warm and solid, offering her such comfort as he was able.

Nyota tried in vain to control her tears. She buried her face against Spock's chest and hiccupped and sobbed against him. He was remarkably calm in the face of her emotional outpouring. Extreme discomfort and awkwardness had been more what she had been expecting from him. Vulcans didn't cry.

He responded to her musing out loud. 'As a rule we do not, however our experiences last night resulted in such an involuntary physiological response. A sensation I had not experienced for 23.8 years.' Spock's voice helped calm her slightly. She focused on his words as a distraction.

'You…' she had to pause and take a breath. 'You cried?'

'Indeed. It was a strange sensation. Initially I thought I was bleeding.' he paused. 'I believe it caused my mother significant concern.'

Nyota had not noticed him crying. She remembered the shock, _pain_ after Elder Sosik tore at something in her mind, but it was a blur after that until Spock had been returned to her. She remembered T'Pau… a soothing presence in her thoughts, and being _alone, terribly alone,_ before Spock joined their minds.

She did not wish to think on it. Her mind still felt bruised, thinking on that horrible… emptiness she'd felt when their bond was severed made her ache. Her thoughts spun away and suddenly she remembered that her father was dead. That she'd been crying for him. For a few seconds she had forgotten. Sorrow rouse up inside her once more. Her breathing caught, hitched, and then she was crying again.

_Papa._

Spock's arms tightened. Overall she felt his concern for her, but beneath that she felt his own sorrow and guilt. Something a bit like anger rose up within her. She slapped him to emphasise her words. 'Stop it! It's not your fault.' She was having trouble talking through her tears. She grabbed hold of Spock's hand and pressed her fingers against his.

She shoved her opinion on Spock's self-flagellation towards him roughly, her sentiments not nearly so clear and concise as her normal tone. _/not your fault. Papa made his own decisions. Not some silly ensign dead under your command. Captain. Own choices. Not about you. Not your responsibility./_

Spock was shocked by her vehemence, but she felt his acceptance with regards to her papa being capable and responsible for himself.

'You recall I said I experienced your father's last moments to a certain degree?' he inquired out loud.

/yes./ she did not trust her voice, her tears had slowed to a steady sobbing, trying to speak would most likely set her off again.

'Tamu may have mentioned that he pulled my mother back from the cliffs edge?'

/yes./

She could tell he was speaking out loud because it enabled him to more concisely word his sentences.

'It is for this reason I feel I am partially to blame for your father's death. Had I maintained my hold on my mother, his actions would not have been necessary.'

/You are not to blame for your mother falling Spock. The cliff was unstable./

'She is my mother, the responsibility to ensure her safety was mine, not your father's.'

/What of Sarek?/ As Amanda's bondmate, the person with any 'responsibility' to Amanda would be him.

'I was escorting mother.' Spock responded by way of explanation.

/Your mother is a grown woman. She is responsible for herself. No one was to blame, the planet was collapsing./

'You are correct, there were many contributing factors, however the fact remains had I simply held my mother's hand—'

Nyota reached up and pressed her fingers to his mouth to silence him. Her tears had dried temporarily during their odd debate. 'Your mother stood too close to the edge. You did not hold on to her. Your father did not pull her to a safer position. Chekov did not beam you up fast enough. My mother held you back and you could not reach you own mother. _Any_ of you could be to blame, but none of you are because _my father_ _chose_ to pull your mother back. It was _his_ choice. He would have known the risks, and he took them.' She paused. 'Nero. Nero is to blame. And he got what he deserved.'

Spock was silent. Nyota felt him thinking over her words. She had attempted to distill her frustration over her father's death into them.

At length he spoke again. 'Your father did indeed choose to save my mother as you say. However he was aware that doing so would result in his death. This is a difficult thing for me to accept. Such a sacrifice.'

Nyota felt tears burning her eyes once more. 'He _knew_ he'd die?' She had not known that. She'd assumed he'd slipped trying to aid Amanda.

'He used his superior body weight in counter-balance to my mother's, enabling him to push her towards me.' Spock clarified.

'Mother did not say that…' Nyota whispered. She was uncertain what she felt. On one hand she was proud of her father for such a noble action, on the other she was angry at him for consciously _leaving_ her and her family.

'We were in the midst of the transporter beam. It is unlikely she saw. I am only aware of the full extent of Zuberi's actions due to the mind link we shared.'

'Show me?' Nyota asked.

Spock frowned slightly. 'It is a painful memory. I do not think he would wish you to endure such a thing Nyota. It will upset you I am certain.'

'I don't care. I need to know.' she insisted.

Spock gave a slight nod. 'Very well.' His fingers reached to her face to meld with her. Nyota tilted her head so he had easy access.

He pulled her down into his thoughts, deeper than usual, down to his memories. She was amazed to realise he could access them at will like a vast library, every tiny detail meticulously recorded. He did something and suddenly his memories were playing in her mind's eye like a daydream.

The huge cavern with the colossal statues. It was familiar, she'd dreamt something… Spock plucked at her thoughts, her sense of déjà vu, came to a conclusion. He'd been meditating and somehow his meditation had affected her dreams. Interesting as that was, they both dismissed it.

The cavern _(katric arc)_ was collapsing. Spock led Amanda (_ko-mekh)_ along a tunnel. Papa (_Zuberi) _and mama (_ko-mekh t'telik)_ where helping Lady T'Pau _(oko'mekh-il)_ and another elder _(Osasu Solik)._ A noise, mama (_ko-mekh t'telik)_ alone, the elder _(Osasu Solik)_ gone. Outside. Hot._ (54__c)_ Communicator. Chekov. Waiting. Waiting. Mama (_ko-mekh t'telik)_ at Spock's side. Holding his arm. Uncomfortable, but tolerable. Amanda (_ko-mekh)_ stepped forward, dropped her hold on Spock. Spock wanted to reach for her but resisted the illogical and emotional urge. Transporter beam engaging. White light. Relief. Safe. A shift in the ground. Shock. Amanda (_ko-mekh)_ falling. Spock reaching, his fingers stopping just short of her. too far. No No No. Mother! A dark hand. Papa (_Zuberi)_. Resignation. Determination, not Spock's - Papa's _(Zuberi's)_. Movement and then Amanda (_ko-mekh)_ in Spock's arms. Victory - Papa's _(Zuberi's)._ Heat. Falling –

Spock removed his fingers from Nyota's face.

Nyota sat up. Gasped. She was panting. She felt… Exactly what Spock had felt on that cliff top.

He was regarding her with solemn dark eyes.

'There's more isn't there?' she asked.

He nodded.

She shifted closer beside him on the bed. 'I want to know.'

His intention to keep the memory from her was obvious. 'Nyota, I do not believe it will serve any purpose save cause you pain.'

'If it was you, wouldn't you want to know? Painful or not?' she asked.

His expression remained firm. She could tell her words weren't convincing him. 'I will surmise the specifics of your father's death if you wish, but I will not let you to feel it. I found the experience… difficult, and he was not my father. I fear it will be traumatic for you.'

Nyota _needed _to know. She _had _to know what her poor papa had felt in his last moments. He'd been alone, alone on planet being torn apart. If she could feel it as Spock had done, it would be almost like she'd been there with him. Like he hadn't been alone.

'_Please_ Spock. I need to.'

'Nyota. Your father's death was not instant, painless or peaceful. He suffered extensive injury before he lost consciousness. He was alone, he did not sense me as I sensed him. I could offer him no comfort. He was in agony. He begged for death. I know he would _not_ wish for you to feel his pain as I felt it. Please. Do not ask me to share this thing with you.'

Nyota could feel tears slipping down her cheeks, her breath was turning into sobs again. '_Spock._ He was my _papa!_ I have… I have to…' She owed it to him. She had to be strong. Spock pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

He spoke against her hair, his breath warm over her left ear. 'I feel your pain at simply hearing these things beloved.'

'I need to know. He was all alone!'

'Would you have me share these thoughts with your mother?' Spock inquired.

'No!' Nyota replied vehemently. Her mama was devastated enough.

'Then you know why I must deny you the same.'

She felt his absolute resolve. He truly had no intention of letting her see the rest of his memory. Nyota went limp in his arms. Cried in earnest. Her poor papa. Her poor foolish, noble, papa.

'I will not forget Nyota.' His words were vague, but she felt the shades of meaning. Spock would live perhaps another 200 years. Her father's sacrifice would be remembered by him long after she was dead, after everyone else who'd loved her papa was gone. Spock's memories would be just as eidetic in two years as in two centuries.

Perhaps when she had time to heal her hurt over his death, he would reconsider and share her father's final moments with her.

Nyota gave up. Spock pulled her down to lay beside him. She curled herself around him and cried.

.

* * *

.

The sun had risen when next she awoke. The bed was empty. Spock was somewhere nearby, still in the building. He reached towards her and she felt a tendril of warmth from him. She sat up. She was wearing her underwear and her undershirt. Her dress uniform was neatly folded on a nearby chair.

Climbing out of the bed she did a few stretches. She felt… more or less like herself. But drained. Like she'd been ill or drank too much the night before. Sadness for her father was lurking in the corners of her mind. She knew if she paid it the slightest attention she'd start crying again so she ignored it. A shower helped. She dressed in her uniform and left the room, intending to speak to Amanda before going to see her own mother.

T'Pau was in the sitting room. Nyota froze.

The ancient Vulcan turned to regard her with her typical regal sterness. '_Granddaughter. Come.'_

She spoke High Vulcan. Nyota had never heard it spoken by anyone save Spock. The linguist in her listened intently for differences in emphasis and pronunciation. The human in her tried not to cower.

Nyota approached the elder nervously.

T'Pau gestured to the nearby chair. '_Sit.'_

Nyota sat and regarded Spock's grandmother, trying not to appear as nervous as she felt. _'Honoured Grandmother.'_ she returned by way of greeting in the same tongue.

'_Thou art recovered?' _T'Pau inquired coolly.

'_Yes. I thank thee honoured grandmother.' _Nyota replied politely.

'_Thy bond to Spohkh is too strong for p'pil'lay.' _T'Pau continued.

Nyota waited. She wasn't sure what T'Pau wanted, what she wanted to say.

'_However, thy choice to sever it was admirably logical. With the V'tosh so few, marriage to a human **is** undesirable.'_

Nyota restrained the urge to purse her lips. She didn't like where T'Pau was going.

_'For 8 years I sought a suitable wife for mine grandson but all denied him. But when e__lder Sosik spoke of the p'pil'lay, many offered themselves as Spohkh's bondmate in thy place._ But now that they would have **him**, Spohkh will not have **them**.'

The irritation Nyota felt twisted into confusion.

_'When a Vulcan feels, we feel very deeply. Such is my grandson's attachment to you. __Spohkh will accept no other, therefore it_ would be illogical to try and sever thy bond, the risk unacceptable.' she paused, her dark eyes flicking over Nyota critically. '_And for a human thou art acceptable.'_

It was difficult for Nyota not to take offence at T'Pau's words, but she tried to. Spock had 'better' offers, Vulcan women who were more logical choices to be his wife, but T'Pau admitted divorce was illogical. That since her stubborn grandson didn't want them, she would 'do', as it were. In typical blunt Vulcan fashion, they were almost complimentary. She was acceptable. Acceptable was... satisfactory. Good. Nyota managed to respond to them in the spirit in which they had been intended.

_'I thank thee honoured grandmother.'_

T'Pau nodded. _'Thy bond sickness. It is gone?'_

'_A small pain remains.' _Nyota admitted.

T'Pau lifted her right hand. _'I would see thy bond.'_

Nyota didn't particularly want to meld with her, she'd had enough of people other than Spock in her head of late, but she remembered T'Pau's soothing touch of the night before. The woman was an elder, a healer. She nodded and leant towards her so she could press her fingers to her face.

T'Pau's fingers were warm and papery. Her cool thoughts effortlessly wove through Nyota's mind heading unerringly towards that place where Spock dwelt within her. The elder did something, pushed slightly, pulled, but caused no discomfort. Nyota's breath caught as she felt something shift and some sort of pressure was relieved. She felt Spock with greater clarity. The nagging headachey feeling evaporated. Wordlessly Nyota pressed her gratitude to T'Pau as the older woman withdrew from her thoughts.

_'Do not let any save thy husband meld with thee in future. Elder Sosik caused thee injury. A delicate touch is needed when one deals with the human mind.'_ she paused and regarded Nyota intently. '_Should a need for a healer arise, I will attend thee.'_

T'Pau's words were far more complimentary than her earlier attempts praising Nyota's logic as admirable and she herself as acceptable had been. There was something almost warm about them, as if T'Pau was _concerned_ for her well-being.

_'You honour me Lady T'Pau.' _Nyota replied.

.

* * *

.

After her odd encounter with Spock's grandmother, Nyota located her mother at the United Earth diplomatic offices nearby in San Francisco's banking district. She was shown to her mother's temporary offices with far less delay than she'd encountered at the Vulcan Consulate. She wasn't frisked for one.

Outwardly Tamu Uhura looked like her usual self. She was perfectly dressed and groomed, busy with half a dozen things at once. She greeted Nyota with a hug and a kiss and congratulated her on her commission.

They both carefully avoided mention of Zuberi.

Nyota spoke of the repairs that had been affected on the _Enterprise_ since her return to spacedock and of the other officers that she would be serving with.

'Gaila has been commissioned as an Ensign and will be under _my_ command. She was complaining _so much_ at the ceremony yesterday.' Nyota said.

Tamu, who had met Gaila on several occasions during Nyota's time at the academy and heard a great deal about her, remarked 'Maybe she's worried you'll put her in the brig the next time she starts up with one of those songs you pretend to hate so much.'

'I _do_ hate them!' Nyota insisted.

'I think you find her amusing. Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered to recite that one about Spock's hoverbike when we spoke last month.'

'That one_ was_ kinda funny. And not as obscene as the others.' Nyota admitted. 'Mostly she's just _filthy_ however.'_  
_

Tamu smiled. 'I am glad you'll have Gaila with you. It's going to be hard, adjusting to life on a ship.'

Nyota sighed. 'Without Spock.'

Her mother frowned. 'So you two have come to a decision then?'

Nyota hesitated, she wasn't sure if she wanted to recount the disastrous events of the night before. Firstly because it would worry her mother, who had enough to concern her, and secondly because it was painful to think of.

'We haven't, you know, ironed out the details. But yes. More or less.' She replied vaguely.

'So Spock will remain with Ambassador Sarek I assume?' Tamu asked.

'Yes.' Nyota agreed dismally.

Tamu tsked. 'Come come Nyota! You are hardly the first person in Starfleet to serve on a ship away from her husband!'

A valid point. 'I know, it's just… We've hardly gotten to spend _any _time together. The longest time we've had actually living together, as husband and wife, was that week we visited you in Nairobi. I'm being selfish, I know. I have so much to grateful for, and yet I can't help but... _hate_ that yet again, something has come between us.'

Her mother took her hand. 'I give him a month. Two tops.' she said.

Nyota raised an eyebrow in query. 'A month what?'

'Before he's hopping a ship to find you.' her mother said.

Nyota smiled. 'I appreciate the sentiment mama, but this is _Spock_ we are talking about. The most stubborn man in the galaxy. It took three years, me getting assaulted, six months in the Romulan Neutral Zone and two near death experiences for him to even admit to _liking _me. If he's set his mind to doing something, he'll do it.' she rolled her eyes and continued in a soft rueful voice. 'Not matter how idiotic.'

'He loves you Nyota. You two will make this work. It will be hard, but things worth doing often are.' her mother replied.

'He offered to divorce me.' Nyota blurted.

Her mother's eyes widened in shock. 'He _what?!'_

Nyota nodded.

Tamu crossed her arms and frowned. 'If he weren't such a clueless _Vulcan_ I'd give that boy of yours a good talking to.' she shook her head. '_Divorce._ I hope you told him where he could shove that.' she concluded with rather less tact than a Federation Ambassador should demonstrate.

At Nyota's silence her mother narrowed her eyes. 'Don't tell me you took him seriously? You're bonded! You share his thoughts! How could you think he'd actually want a divorce?'

Nyota scrunched up her face. 'I knew he didn't_ actually_ want one, but I thought…' She sighed. 'It sounds stupid.'

'Explain Nyota.' her mother demanded.

'I thought he needed to divorce me so he could marry a Vulcan woman and help, you know, 'rebuild his race'.' Nyota replied in a rush looking at her fingernails. She needed a manicure.

Tamu raised an eyebrow. 'You're right. That _is_ quite stupid my daughter.'

Nyota pouted. 'No, it's perfectly logical. There are hardly any Vulcans left. They should reproduce with each other not aliens.'

'Spock's half 'alien' himself as you put it.' Tamu pointed out, noticing straight away what Nyota herself had missed.

'Yes. Lady T'Pau said as much. Said she'd spent 8 years trying to find him a wife but that no Vulcan woman would have him. But apparently they've all changed their tune all of sudden. But now it's _Spock _who won't have them. She sort of implied she was okay with that and that I was 'acceptable'.'

''Acceptable' - not quite as good as 'satisfactory' but definitely not meant as an insult.' Tamu replied wryly.

Nyota smiled ruefully. 'Yes I think she was trying to be polite. Of course she came off as incredibly rude, but it's the thought that counts isn't it?'

'Lady T'Pau is a woman of cold and efficient logic. Being 'Acceptable' to her is quite the honour.' Tamu said.

'She'd not that cold really.' Nyota replied thoughtfully. 'She's actually got this gentle side she keeps hidden.'

Her mother looked at her questioningly. Nyota realised she'd have to explain the events of the night before in full if she mentioned melding with T'Pau. Perhaps it would be for the best. There wasn't anyone else Nyota could talk to that would have any real understanding of all that had occurred. Her mother's knowledge of Vulcan custom was hardly commonplace.

'Last night, when Spock spoke of _p'pil'lay _I was so upset, I insisted he fetch an elder to divorce us straight away.'

Her mother gasped. 'You _foolish _girl!'

'I know. I know…' she paused 'It was _terrible._ It hurt. And then after…' she let her voice trail off. Just thinking about what she'd felt when her bond to Spock had been torn away made her feel vaguely sick. 'T'Pau came. She fixed it.'

Tamu was staring at her in blatant shock and concern. 'Your bond was _severed_ Nyota?'

'Yes, but only for a short while. T'Pau fixed it.'

'What? What happened?' her mother asked in a panicked voice.

Nyota frowned. 'I don't… I don't really remember. I passed out. T'Pau melded with me and… did something… ' she was aware of her breath becoming uneven, or her heart beating wildly as she thought on the experience. '…and it didn't hurt as badly any-more. And then Spock was back.' she paused. 'And it was okay again.'

'Foolish girl!' her mother admonished her. 'Severing bonds can be very dangerous, are you sure you are okay?'

Nyota nodded. 'Yes mama. T'Pau checked on me again this morning. And she told me off as well.'

Her mother pursed her lips. 'Well good.' She shook her head. 'How could you be so reckless? Severing a bond is dangerous enough for a Vulcan, it could very well have _killed_ you.'

'I know.' Nyota agreed. 'I was angry.' she was tired of talking of it already. 'Angry and stupid and let's leave it at that.'

Her mother frowned at her but nodded. 'Very well. Let's speak of more pleasant things. Tell me more about the _Enterprise.'_


	14. Chapter 14: Spock

AN: Thanks again to **Lamb's Ear**. I wish you could read her hilarious comments when she proofed this for me. Somehow she managed to include Beyonce lyrics.

* * *

**Spock**

Starfleet Academy showed few outward signs that anything had changed since the attack upon Earth 8 days previously. The ruins of the golden gate bridge were visible at times between the buildings as Spock made his way across the campus, but apart from the additional attention he received from the cadets in the hallways and quads, there were no other signs that anything had occurred - that almost a ¼ of the enrolled cadets, the majority of the fourth year students, were dead.

Spock made his way to his quarters. It was only the work of 23.5 minutes to pack his personal belongings. He placed the duffel bags and the case containing his Ka'athyra near the entrance to the quarters and changed into the instructor's uniform he had left out for that purpose. He had a PADD containing his letters of resignation, one for the Academy Board resigning his position as an instructor and another for Starfleet Command resigning his commission aboard the _Enterprise._

He was aware that he had left it late to refuse the First Officer's position, but he anticipated Kirk would have little difficulty in locating a suitable replacement for the role. It had been a highly desirable post before Nero's attack, it would be doubly appealing now.

It was to Admiral Komack that he tendered his resignation as an instructor. The admiral did not appear surprised – he was undoubtedly aware that the _Enterprise_ was due to depart the next day and had been expecting Spock's departure. Spock did not bother clarifying that he would not be leaving to serve upon the flagship. He would have to explain his decision to Starfleet Command and the Admiral would learn of it through them. Repeating it would serve no purpose, simply waste additional time on what was likely the last day he would be on the same planet at Nyota for some time.

He crossed the campus to the shuttle hanger intending to travel directly to Command at the Presidio across the bay. He had felt Nyota awaken some 48 minutes previously and was eager to return to her once he had tendered his resignation. He accessed a computer terminal on the hanger deck and determined when the next scheduled shuttle would cross the bay to headquarters.

There were few personnel in the hanger. He made his way towards the designated shuttle - 12091. The shuttle's door was open and awaiting passengers. A Vulcan was crossing the hanger bay alongside it. Spock regarded the figure curiously. The Vulcan had grey hair and appeared quite advanced in age. He was dressed in a practical variant of a traditional Vulcan robe. Clearly he was not a member of Starfleet.

Something about the tilt of his head and his gait struck Spock with an intense feeling of familiarity.

'Father?' he called out in inquiry even though he knew the hair was wrong and the man approximately 5cms too tall to be Sarek.

The Vulcan paused, tilted his head and slowly turned with an almost amused expression upon his face.

Spock felt an odd surge of recognition as the elder's face was revealed to him. He knew the man. Was absolutely certain of it, however he appeared to have… forgotten… who he was. Such a thing had never occurred to Spock before. His memory was infallible. He frowned slightly, felt himself turn his body, twist to get a clearer look at the man's face so he might identify him.

The elder spoke, his face expressive for Vulcan, his voice wry, amused.

'I, am not our father.'

Spock blinked, suddenly realising who the man was. Himself. He as staring at himself. From the future. This was the 'Spock' that Nero had so despised. The one who had found James Kirk upon Delta Vega. The 'Ambassador Spock' who's ship he'd piloted. His feelings were exceedingly conflicted. On the one hand he felt simple amazement as the unique position he was in, meeting… _himself._ But on the other, this man, this Spock, was he who'd brought red matter into the galaxy. Who'd given Nero the tool with which he destroyed his, _their_ home-world.

He found himself walking forward towards him and forced himself to stop. The other Spock continued forwards.

'There are so few Vulcans left, we cannot afford to ignore each other.' A reasonable conclusion, but one reached rather belatedly. Where had this Spock been when he and James Kirk were attempting to stop Nero?

'Then why did you send Kirk aboard when you alone could have explained the truth?' he asked. He found he could not entirely keep the confusion and censure from his voice. With the insight of this Spock, defeating Nero would have been much easier. Far less risk would have been taken.

His counter-part appeared unconcerned by his tone. Unrepentant. 'Because you needed each other. I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together. Of a friendship, that would define you both in ways you cannot yet realize.'

Spock knew he was frowning openly, but didn't care. What did it matter if this man knew his feelings? They were apparently the same person. His explanation was not satisfactory. He had risked Earth simply so that he and James Kirk would realise there was the potential for _friendship_ between them? Not only did the risk seem wildly disproportionate to its pay off, it did not explain how he had managed to get _James Kirk_ an 'arrogant, stubborn, insufferable ass' as Nyota put it, to go along with his plan.

'How did you persuade him to keep your secret?' he inquired.

'He inferred that universe ending paradoxes would ensue, should he break his promise.' the older Spock replied.

He had let Kirk believe to speak of him would somehow damage the fabric of space and time. Given Kirk's demonstrated lack of knowledge with regards to general relativity and related fields of physics, his confusion was unsurprising. 'You lied?' Spock accused him.

His counter-part shrugged. 'Oh, I… _implied.' _he replied, seeming almost pleased with himself.

Spock found a small smile tugged at his lips at his older self's odd, casual, _humorous_ personality. It appeared he would become far more relaxed and_ human_ in his later years. This older Spock's actions had certainly not been the logical ones of a Vulcan. He'd taken a great risk - 'A gamble?' he asked.

'An act of faith.' he clarified using a phrase that again, was far more human than Vulcan. 'One I hope you'll repeat in the future at Starfleet.' he continued.

Spock felt his mild amusement drain away. The words he'd been repeating to himself for several days, those he would soon address to the Admirals of Starfleet Command came out of his mouth automatically. 'In the face of extinction it is only logical that I resign my Starfleet commission and help rebuild our race.'

'And yet you can be in two places at once.' his older-self pointed out calmly.

Spock froze as he pondered the implication of that simple sentence. It was factual. Through a series of exceedingly unlikely events, he did exist in two places at once. There were two S'ch T'gai Spocks. He was uncertain of how to respond to such a thing.

'I urge you to remain in Starfleet.' his counter-part continued. 'I've already located a suitable planet on which to establish a Vulcan colony.'

Spock wondered at that. It seemed, _presumptuous._ 'I am certain the High Council will be delighted to hear of this.' he remarked with something very close to sarcasm toning his words.

His older-self smiled, very widely for a Vulcan. Apparently Spock's tone amused him. 'I am 157 years old. I have seen much of this galaxy. In this regard I believe I can offer insight that would be advantageous to our people.'

Curiosity rose in Spock at his words. He was intrigued by thoughts of precisely _what_ his counter-part had seen over his 157 years. He was aware that seeking such knowledge would be unwise however - would influence events as they were meant to unfold.

'Spock, in this case do yourself a favour. Put aside logic, do what feels right.' His words sounded like an odd mix of things his father and mother might have said. An amalgamation of Vulcan and human. He sounded utterly sure of himself, at peace. That was… encouraging. Spock found himself revealing things he would not usual voice to anyone save perhaps Nyota.

'I must admit resigning my commission, whilst logical, does not 'feel right' as you put it.' The elder Spock seemed pleased by his admission and Spock felt able to continue, albeit awkwardly and somewhat haltingly, 'I find the concept of being separated from my wife to be most... unsatisfactory.'

Transparent shock spread over the older Vulcan's face. 'You are bonded?' he asked in surprise.

Spock frowned. 'Yes.' he admitted. 'You… were not?'

His counter-part was slow in answer, no doubt being careful in what he said so as not to negatively affect future events in their now shared timeline. 'I did not bond until I was 104.' He paused. 'I am curious… T'Pring?'

Spock found himself equally intrigued. 'No. We severed our betrothal when I departed for Starfleet.'

The older Spock smiled slightly. 'Well of _that_ I am pleased to hear.' He shook his head. 'A most _logical _woman, T'Pring.' His tone was ironic, but did not demonstrate particular animosity. Spock wondered at what had occurred between them in his timeline. Obviously they had not bonded either, but evidentially for different reasons.

Spock thought of T'Pring's odd communiqué. He needed to respond to it. Sooner rather than later. 'Indeed.' He replied coolly.

'If not T'Pring, and forgive me, but you would not have had a _need _to bond yet,' his counter-part said in obvious reference to pon'farr. '… might I inquire as to whom you are wed?'

Spock suddenly felt nervous. He had assumed that his counter-part would know, that Nyota Uhura and he would have loved one another regardless of whatever changes Nero had wrought when he destroyed the _Kelvin._ But perhaps not. Perhaps they had not even known one another... the thought was distressing. 'Nyota Uhura.' he replied.

The older Spock's eyebrows shot up towards his hair in shock before, to Spock's amazement, he smiled and let out a short exclamation that was almost a _laugh_. A very short truncated laugh, but laughter none the less.

'This seems to come as a surprise to you.' Spock remarked nonplussed.

'Indeed. Not an unpleasant one,' he offered by way of reassurance, ' - but a surprise none the less.' His expression softened. 'Nyota Uhura.' he said wistfully. 'A most admirable woman.'

Spock found the assessment somewhat lacking but it was acceptable enough. 'Indeed, and yet, judging from your reaction not _your _admirable woman.'

'No indeed. I was not acquainted with Nyota Uhura until stardate 2266 when she became chief communications officer of the _Enterprise.'_

Spock could not resist. 'Then you and Nyota were not...?' he asked.

His counter-part shook his head. 'I counted her as one of my closest companions, a life-long friend, but a friend only.' he paused, clearly thinking on what for him were ancient memories. 'She was one of the first humans to truly befriend me. There was no artifice to her. She was exceedingly pleasant company.'

Spock wondered at his counter-part's words. He recalled vividly his attraction to Nyota from their earliest acquaintance. _Shan'hal'lak. _The engulfment. Had this Spock not felt this? Or had he been able to repress his emotions? His supposed his control at 36 would be greater than at 24. It had taken quite extreme situations for him to admit his love for Nyota, situations that this Spock and his Nyota would not have experienced.

His older-self had a look of slight bemusement on his face. 'Bonded to a human woman at 28. Fascinating.' He was silent for a moment before he continued. 'From what I had heard of you, and from my own experiences, I had thought to find you set on following the Vulcan way absolutely.' He paused. 'I wonder if my words of encouragement were even required?'

'This shuttle departs for Starfleet Command in 3.8 minutes. It was my intention to tender the resignation of my commission.' Spock replied.

'Despite Lieutenant Uhura's imminent departure with the _Enterprise_?' his counter-part inquired.

Spock found himself frowning as all the complicated feelings he had over that departure rose up within him. He recalled the terrible _p'pil'lay_ the previous evening. He was certain his distress was plain to the Vulcan standing before him. It was unlikely any other in the galaxy could read his expression as accurately. He found himself speaking, again, of things he would not usually discuss with anyone. _'_She misunderstood my intentions with regards to rebuilding our race and requested _p'pil'lay _of me last night.'

'Then you are no longer bonded?' his older-self inquired quite gently.

'No. The severing, it caused _Tel-has-mar (bond sickness)_. The shock very nearly killed Nyota. Grandmother was able to undo the damage, reform the bond. But…' Spock found vocalising the facts of the situation very different to voicing his feelings with regards to it. 'The thought of being parted from her for five years causes me excessive discomfort.'

'For _p'pil'lay _to cause such injury, I assume this marriage is not one based in logic or convenience?' the older Spock asked.

Spock let himself give his older-self a depreciating look at his exceedingly obvious observation. Impulsively he held out his hand, palm up, in a gesture of_ el'ru'esta (hand embrace) -_ a form of telepathic contact used amongst family members. The action was motivated as much by curiosity as a desire to explain without needing to verbalise his feelings. The older Spock raised an eyebrow but returned the gesture without hesitation. Evidently he was just as intrigued.

It was exceedingly odd. The older Spock's thoughts did not feel like own, there was no sense of feeling an echo or some sort of 'copy' of his mind through their fingers, but there was a very strange sense of familiarity. Rather like that he'd felt when he'd mistaken him for Sarek. They were both very curious, but attempting to restrain themselves. In that respect at least their thoughts were perfectly mirrored. Recalling his purpose for requesting telepathic contact, Spock let his older-self feel his bond to Nyota, his affection for her.

He felt the older Vulcan's surprise. He got the vague sense that although his older counter-part had bonded, what he shared with his wife (_Saavik - half Romulan, half Vulcan, a lovely dark haired woman in a strange Starfleet Captain's uniform)_ whilst warm and affectionate, was quite shallow in comparison to that which he shared with Nyota. _(Dan'Vansurik dan'taluhk dan'ashayam ashal-veh. - most-beautiful, most-precious, most-beloved darling-one.)_

Heard through their fingers, his counter-part's voice sounded stronger, younger - more like his own. _/k'hat'n'dlawa?/_ he inquired in shock.

_/yes./_ Spock replied in kind before pulling his hand from the older Spock's and clasping it back behind his back.

His counter-part seemed to be in shock. After 6 seconds of silence he spoke again. 'If you resign your commission, chose your perceived duty to our race over Starfleet _and _her, then you are a fool.'

Spock raised an eyebrow at his almost confrontational tone but replied quite evenly. 'It occurs to me that owing to your far greater experience, you have more to offer our race than I. Since it would be unwise for us to interact more than necessary, it is therefore logical that I remain in Starfleet.'

'I must concur with your assessment of the situation. Commander.' came the amused reply. 'Since my customary farewell would appear oddly self-serving,' he lifted his hand into the ta'al, '...I shall simply say good luck.'

Spock returned the salute and watched the older Spock walk away in a mild state of shock. The shuttle was cycling its engines, preparing to take off. Spock looked at the open door for a moment, then turned and walked decisively out from the hanger.

.

* * *

.

Spock located his father in a meditation chamber within the Ambassador's private apartments at the Embassy. Nyota was not in the building. He had briefly contemplated reaching towards her with the _tel'esta (bond-touch)_ to ascertain her location before he recalled that he could simply call her personal communicator. He felt decidedly foolish for not considering the obvious ahead of an obscure Vulcan telepathic technique he was not overly familiar with.

His father seemed unsurprised by his presence. He gestured for Spock to join him at the _asenoi_ he knelt before. Spock did so, sinking to his knees directly across from him. His father's eyes flicked over his instructor's uniform expressionlessly.

'You have made your choice.' he intoned. Spock could detect nothing from his tone.

'I have father.' Spock replied.

'You have given much thought to this choice I hope.'

'Indeed I have father. I did not come to a decision until 49.2 minutes ago.'

Sarek inclined his head in apparent approval. 'Then you will remain Starfleet?' He did not sound displeased. He did not even sound resigned.

Spock tilted his head in surprise. 'Yes father. That is the decision at which I have arrived.'

'Logical.' Sarek replied serenely.

Spock frowned slightly. 'Forgive me, I am... confused at your reaction.'

'I have meditated upon the matter. It is the best choice.' Sarek said calmly, as if it was perfectly normal for him to speak of Starfleet in such a way, as if it had not been the cause of a 9.8 year rift between them.

'I am gratified we are in agreement, however unexpected that fact is.' Spock replied hoping his father would elaborate.

Sarek merely nodded. 'T'Pau informs me that your Nyota is undamaged. She saw to her this morning. She anticipates no lasting ill-effect to your _p'pil'lay._'

Spock's confusion grew. Sarek was now speaking casually, in open acceptance, of his human wife. 'That is most pleasing news. I shall express my gratitude to _Oko'mekh-il_ before I depart with the _Enterprise.'_

Curiously, Spock reached towards his father through their bond. He thought back on their interactions since he had beamed down to the Katric Ark. There had been some... change in his father. Even his earliest memories, of times during his childhood when their family had been most as ease, his father had not been as calm and as serene as he had of late. Given the terrible events of the last week and half, this made no sense.

Sarek reached back, neither eagerly or timidly, but instead with a certainty that spoke an implacable belief that Spock would not reject the contact. This too, was unlike his father. Spock had been distracted when last they had shared mental contact. In the transporter room aboard the _Enterprise_ he had been having something of an emotional crisis. _Traumatised _Nyota had thought him. He had felt the change in his father at the time, but not noted the nature of that difference. Now, centred and in his right mind once more, (more or less the human in him wryly pointed out), it was plain.

Sarek carried a katra within his mind. Spock raised his eyebrow in query.

His father extended his left hand, palm up, in the _el'ru'esta._ Spock looked at his father's tanned hand for a long moment, thinking of when he himself had made the gesture less than an hour previously. Sarek did not react to his hesitation, again, he seemed utterly confident that he would not be rejected.

Spock reached out and pressed his fingers to his father's for the first time in a decade.

Sarek's mind sharpened, came into focus. The difference between him and his older counter-part was quite apparent. Sarek's mind was all serenity, logic, and peace. His thoughts were supremely confident, perfect. The logic that ran through his mind was flawless and the calm that knowledge afforded him was prodigious. Spock reeled in awe. _Surak._ His father carried the katra of _Surak_ himself within him.

Spock could not commune with the katra of the ancient philosopher directly, but his father let him sense an echo of his thoughts. He felt a wave of cool approval. His father broke the connection, pulled his hand from beneath Spock's.

Shock. Awe.

Spock stared at his father silently for... he was uncertain of the exact period of time. Less than a minute, more than 30 seconds. _Surak_ was the reason for his father's new found acceptance._ Surak_ found his choices, found _him_ to be satisfactory. It went against all of the aforementioned teachings, but Spock was forced to admit feelings of pride at the revelation.

A part of him wondered though - _why_ would Surak approve of him? He was not even fully Vulcan. His confusion must have been evident to his father, since he spoke in response to it.

'Changes will have to be made if our people are to survive this hardship without falling back into the old ways.' Sarek said. 'It would be easy for us to do as our cousins did millennia ago, to become as the Romulans are. We must instead find our own path. Be more than Vulcan, yet still Vulcan remain.' Sarek paused and Spock wondered where his words came from, his father or the ancient katra he carried. 'You Spock, are proof that we can change, that a Vulcan can be more without being less.'

'I had always hoped you would be a symbol to our people Spock, proof that humans were not somehow less than us because they were different. This you have done, just not in the manner I anticipated. Spock - the disrespectful, emotionally compromised, half-breed son of Sarek and his outlandish, primitive human wife,' he continued voicing words that had followed Spock throughout his life on Vulcan, '- and James Kirk, an irrational and_ violently_ emotional human if ever I met one, saved Earth and the Federation itself from destruction. All that remains of Vulcan is thanks to Spock and Kirk.'

Spock stared at his father in stunned silence. He wondered at the strength of Surak's influence upon him for Sarek to voice such things.

'Commander Spock of Starfleet is a Vulcan that many already look to. Your mother suddenly finds she is _Lady_ Amanda in more than just name. Those who would not even speak to her suddenly follow her every move, because she is _your _mother. T'Pau humbles herself before _your_ human wife. And constantly I am asked of you, asked of my _'dan'osa-fu, zhel-lan Spohkh (most honourable son, Commander Spock)_' or _'Opidsu Spohkh (Honourable Lord Spock).'_

Spock was uncertain what he felt at his father's revelation. He was most definitely not comfortable being referred to as '_Opidsu'_ it was an ancient honorific, on par with _S'haile_ in terms of respect, and not he felt, appropriate.

'Elder Sosik spoke of your_ p'pil'lay_ and I arose from my rest this morning to find 7 offers of marriage for you.' Sarek continued. 'T'Pau spent 8 years seeking a suitable mate for you, but none would have you with your human blood. Suddenly it matters not.'

'I assume you clarified the situation?' Spock inquired.

'You mother took care of that. She appeared to take enjoyment from the process and I saw no reason to deny her.' Sarek replied.

Spock could imagine the petty human delight she would have taken in returning the scorn he'd received over the years. He hoped she had restrained herself. Or at least, that was what he told himself.


	15. Chapter 15: Nyota

**Nyota**

After seeing her mother Nyota headed across town to the Academy to prepare for her departure on the _Enterprise_ the next day.

Her dormitory was a disaster zone.

Gaila had obviously been 'packing' in preparation for her deployment. Clothes were strewn across every available surface and hung off everything else. There were four overflowing duffel bags on Gaila's bed. Three were closed. The fourth was overflowing with what looked like perhaps twenty pairs of shoes. Most of them heels. Nyota shook her head. She doubted very much that they were under the regulation weight limit for personal belongings. No doubt Gaila had devised some means to get her extensive wardrobe aboard however. 'Charmed' a few of the transfer staff perhaps.

Her room-mate herself was not in evidence.

It took Nyota almost two hours to pack a suitable selection of clothing and other belongings. In the end two tightly packed duffel bags were enough. The rest of her belongings she packed into storage boxes to be shipped to her parent's house in Nairobi. There was not a great deal. She had attempted to remain spartan during her time at the Academy knowing she'd eventually be deployed and that there was no point collecting knick-knacks.

She attached identification tags to the bags and took them to the drop-off point for deploying personnel. The long racks were filled with an assortment of personal belongings - bags, boxes and in one case, what appeared to be a very large pair of skis. They were to be transported to the ship via transporter beam and would, theoretically, be waiting for her in her quarters when she reported to the _Enterprise._ She'd heard horror stories about bags ending up delivered to ships on the opposite side of the galaxy to their owners however. With that in mind she'd kept a few essentials back to beam up _with_ her. She didn't want to end up stuck in replicated underwear.

Returning to the room, now significantly cleaner and emptier than two hours previously, she showered and changed into a fresh uniform. She took a third, significantly lighter, duffel in hand and picked up the small potted rosebush that had sat on her desk for the last year. It had been Spock's. A 'botanical arrangement' for his office given to him by his mother - a cutting from her garden on Vulcan. Nyota was uncertain what to do with it. She thought perhaps Amanda would like it back since she'd lost her garden. If not, maybe she'd take it on board with her. She had a few kilos left on her baggage quota and the flowers had a very nice perfume to them. Taking a rosebush on board wasn't any weirder than taking _skis _she told herself.

The trip on the hoverbus to the Vulcan Embassy was awkward encumbered with a large bag and a pot-plant. The mid-afternoon heat didn't help matters and she felt slightly rumpled by the time she entered the building. It was very warm inside by human standards and although that usually wouldn't bother her, (she _was_ African after all), after her flustered journey across the city she would have welcomed the cool blast of air conditioning kept at human levels.

The foyer was just as crowded as it had been all week. For the most part the people were Vulcan and human, but there was a sprinkling of more exotic races as well. The non-Vulcans were either milling around the waiting area looking bored or being cleared for entrance by the security guards. The Vulcans present were all clearly awaiting the arrival of guests or business contacts. As she watched two humans in suits with PADDs in hand breezed past her to politely greet a Vulcan woman who had been standing nearby. From the snatches of conversation she overheard they were bankers of some sort come to discuss the woman's business assets.

She made her way towards the bank of turbolifts, ignoring the weird looks she got due to the pot plant. Spock was somewhere above her in the building, their bond stretched between them. She both dreaded and longed to be at his side. All day she'd been avoiding thinking about the fact that she'd soon be parted from him for perhaps _years._ Soon she'd have to face that fact though.

'Ma'am?'

Nyota turned to regard the speaker. It was one of the Consulate's security staff. She'd hoped to avoid a security check. She'd been in and out of the Embassy all week after all and Vulcans were supposed to have perfect memories. Apparently not this one however.

She inhaled through her nose trying to remain pleasant and polite despite her irritation. The guard was just doing his job. But still, she was hot and uncomfortable - the plant was awkward in her arms and her bag dug into her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to play twenty questions and get frisked. She glanced around at the other guards, hoping someone she had encountered previously would be present to ease her way through security without need for detailed explanation. A few looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't be sure.

'It is a requirement of entry to the Vulcan Consulate that all visitors provide valid identification and state the nature of their business.' the Vulcan who'd pulled her aside coolly informed her.

She sighed impatiently and shifted the plant to her hip.

'_I am S'chn T'gai Nyota. Wife of Spock.'_ she replied in Vulcan getting straight to the point.

The guard did not react to her pronouncement as she had expected. There was no bowing and 'Lady Nyota'ing.

'Valid Identification is required-' the guard began.

Nyota shoved her Starfleet ID chip in his direction. The guard broke of mid-sentence. Scanned it. Looked intently at the information that appeared on his console screen. Nyota put her bag down on the floor beside her and shifted the rose from one arm to the other. The muscles in her left shoulder were beginning to protest.

'This identification is invalid.' the guard said.

Nyota blinked. Glanced at the screen. It looked exactly as it should.

'Sorry what?' she asked with more human vagueness than she'd usually use with a Vulcan.

The guard's eyes were flat, his voice even. 'I cannot grant you entry to the Consulate without valid identification.' he replied.

'I have provided valid identification.' Nyota responded. 'That ID is current.'

'No you have not. The information on this ID chip is incorrect.'

'What information?' Was the data corrupted? Some error or glitch in the chip? Nyota glanced at the screen once more. She didn't notice anything.

'S'chn T'gai Spock does not have a wife. Therefore this identification is not valid.'

Nyota stared at the guard. She belatedly noticed the slightly… _smug, _superior tilt to his eyebrows. She only detected it because she_ was _married to Spock, he most definitely _did _have a wife, and she was intimately familiar with Vulcan facial cues.

She recalled her conversation with T'Pau. Elder Sosik had gossiped about the _p'pil'lay, _told everyone they were divorced. Clearly this guard thought it appropriate to react to the supposed severing of their bond. As if it was any of his business. Anger crept through her. She consciously calmed herself, kept her expression bland.

She stepped forward and placed the potted plant upon his desk with slightly more force than perhaps necessary. A dead leaf fell onto the surface of the desk. The guard frowned slightly, no doubt horrified she risked getting _dirt_ on his desk. She restrained the urge to snap at him. 'You require additional verification of my identity?' she managed to inquire almost politely.

'Affirmative.'

'Very well.'

Nyota reached towards Spock. Instantly he reached back, feeling her distress. She felt wordless query. In response she formed a thought carefully in her mind. Concentrated. Focused on her inexact, fallible human memories of him. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, the silk of his hair, the darkness of his eyes. Their bond flared to life as it had when last she'd reached so strongly for him. She pressed her careful words towards him.

_/Spock. Please come downstairs and explain to security that I am still your wife./_

He heard her, understood. She felt him forming a response and braced herself accordingly.

_/I come my wife./_

His words rippled through her like a wave of heat. She felt his breath against her neck. She inhaled sharply and, impossibly, smelt the scent of his skin. Her eyes had closed of their own volition. She was _certain_ that he was standing right in front of her. If she lifted her hand she would surely touch him standing there. Her skin flushed and her heart skipped. It imbued her, the desire to touch him and join their thoughts properly. But she had been prepared for it this time, she pulled away from him slightly. The teasing phantom of him cleared from her senses. She no longer smelt him or sensed his body heat just out of reach.

She opened her eyes. The guard was staring at her.

'If you cannot provide adequate identification you will have to vacate the premises Lieutenant.' he said.

Nyota ignored him. She could feel Spock coming. The compulsion to seek him out was there, but she'd been expecting it this time, it tugged at her but did not affect her in the manner it had when she had first tried the _tel'esta_ with him.

The guard was speaking, his tone slightly confrontational.

Although she was far more in control of her response to the tel'esta she found she was not listening. His words were an intelligible tangle. Translating standard into her native Swahili was usually something which required no conscious effort at all, at that moment however, it was apparently beyond her. She could not bring herself to care.

His slightly raised voice was gaining them an audience. She glanced around the foyer. People were openly, and not so openly, staring. No doubt many of the Vulcans found her apparent humiliation at the hands of the guard to be 'satisfactory'.

Nyota felt the tingle of Spock travelling rapidly towards her. She turned towards the bank of turbolifts. A door opened. Spock appeared. His eyes met hers with a heat that had her heart skipping again and her body seeming to catch aflame. She dug her fingernails into her palms so she would not run across the room and throw herself at him.

He wore a charcoal grey Starfleet instructor's uniform. Nyota had not seen him in one since… before. He looked as gorgeous and handsome in it as ever, his broad shoulders, long lean limbs and perfect posture highlighted by the severe cut and colour of the uniform. He strode across the foyer. Nyota was aware of the guard glancing at her.

Spock did not stop a respectable distance from her and greet her. He walked right up to her, took her hand in his and pulled her into a half embrace against him. In Vulcan custom his behaviour was about as subtle as grabbing her and giving her a french kiss. _Quite_ out of character for him. Apparently he had not been as prepared for the _Tel'esta_ as she had been. She could not bring herself to feel any guilt over the matter however. Her eyes slipped from his to glance down with longing at his mouth. She was tempted to kiss him, see if he'd allow it. With effort she restrained herself and forced her gaze back up to his.

His fingers shifted against hers, his thoughts aligning as closely as possible through such a connection. It soothed her, calmed the need the _tel'esta_ had awoken in her. The fact that she could feel that he _wanted_ to kiss her did not sooth her control in that regard however.

He leant down towards her, bringing their faces temptingly close together. He spoke in High Vulcan.

'_My wife. What hath delayed thee?'_

As always she found hearing him speak in the archaic dialect incredibly attractive. It leant an extra depth of feeling to his voice that affected her keenly.

'_According to this one,'_ she said gesturing towards the Vulcan, '_I am **not** thy wife.'_

Spock shot a look at the guard. Nyota had not ever seen_ quite_ the expression he now wore on his face. She was reminded very vividly of Sarek. The guard appeared to wilt slightly. Nyota took pleasure in that fact, petty as it was. Spock did not say anything, just turned away from the other Vulcan, dismissing him. He hefted her duffel in one hand, maintaining his grip on her with the other. Sensing his intent Nyota picked up the rose with her free arm and signalled her readiness to leave through their joined hands. Spock led her towards the lifts.

They had not taken four steps before the guard called out to them.

'Sir, all visitors to the consulate are required to provide valid identification and state the purpose of their visit.'

Nyota felt Spock's shock. He had not considered the guard would ever do something so rude as to continue with his charade of a security check now that Spock had made it exceedingly obvious that Nyota _was _his. She came to a stop beside him.

Spock turned back to the guard and spoke in rapid, sharp high Vulcan.

'_This is she who is my wife. I trust this provides sufficient clarification for thee?'_

The guard was silent for a long moment before he replied. When he did so it was in standard Vulcan. _'Ah, Osasu Spohkh, forgive me but I do not speak the high tongue.'_

Spock had not expected him too. He was belittling the man in response to his rudeness. Nyota felt another wave of petty enjoyment. Her husband was more dignified in his emotional responses. He wasn't taking any pleasure in the interaction at all, was just irritated that the man would insult her.

Spock looked at the guard silently for a long moment. Nyota felt that he did it intentionally to make him squirm. At length he deigned to speak in standard. 'You are unaware of the identity of this woman and her purpose within the embassy?' he inquired.

The guard glanced from Spock to Nyota and back again. 'She is… she is your human.'

From the way he said it he might as well have been referring to a pet sehlat.

Nyota was uncertain if he could have said anything that would have angered her husband more. He despised hearing the word 'human' used in such a dismissive manner, especially in reference to her or his mother. Nyota spoke through their fingers. _/There is no offence where none is taken. I __**am**__ human and I __**am**__ yours./_ she reassured him.

Spock's voice was cool when he spoke. 'She is not _'my human'_. She is Okosu S'chn T'gai Nyota of House Solkar of the Clan of Surak. She is my _wife_.'

The guard looked almost taken aback, for a Vulcan at least. 'Forgive me Okasu Spock. It was said you divorced your human.'

Spock's irritation grew exponentially at the guard's continued reference to her as his 'human'.

'Who are thee to speak of mine kin in such disrespect?' The voice was heavily accented, the standard archaic. Nyota recognised it instantly.

She turned.

T'Pau, in all her be-robed and headress-ed glory, flanked by two attendants in matching robes, stood near the turbolifts. Nyota was exceedingly glad she was not on the receiving end of the look currently adorning her face.

The guard definitely looked taken aback, Vulcan or not. His eyes were wide, his expression quite transparent. He bowed very deeply and kept his head lowered in extreme deference. 'Okosu T'Pau. Forgive me please, if I have misspoken.'

As he spoke T'Pau glided forward to stand near Nyota and Spock.

'You have misspoken. Do not do so again.' She turned to face Nyota, abruptly dismissing the guard. '_Granddaughter. Attend me._' She spoke in High Vulcan as she had during their conversation that morning. At her words one of her attendants stepped forward and relieved Nyota of the rose.

'_Of course honourable grandmother.'_ Nyota replied, trying not to look too confused, and took the place the attendant had vacated. T'Pau rested her hand on Nyota's forearm. Spock fell into step beside them. Nyota got the impression that T'Pau had deigned to come downstairs simply to make it plain to all that not only was she very much Spock's wife, she was accepted by T'Pau. No doubt it was a purely logical exercise on her part to prevent further gossip about her family, but still a nice gesture.

'_Thy Van-Kal-Vuhlkansu is quite superior granddaughter.'_ T'Pau remarked as they made their way towards the bank of turbolifts. _'Thou speaks it with the fluency of a daughter born to the high clans rather than married.'_

Nyota suspected that the reason T'Pau was speaking to her now in it was so that she would demonstrate that superior fluency to those observing them. Nyota glanced around the foyer. Many of the Vulcans present wore rich robes, but Nyota did not see any with the marking of the high clans on their robes. It was unlikely any of those present could follow their conversation fully. But they would understand enough to realise that Spock's wife spoke High Vulcan. Which was of course, T'Pau's intent.

'You_ honour me Lady T'Pau. I studied it for several years, but held no hope for any particular fluency ere I met Spohkh. It is one of the most difficult languages I have learnt.'_

'_The Lady Amanda hath not thy fluency, despite years of study.'_ T'Pau said.

Nyota recalled the long ago mindmeld with Spock when she'd been injured. In an attempt to keep her awake he'd given her an impromptu lesson in High Vulcan. He'd spoken the language for her and she'd observed the exact way his throat and mouth formed the words from within their joined minds. It was unlikely Amanda had attempted such a thing with Sarek. _'I believe I could be of assistance to the Lady Amanda in this regard.'_

'_Perhaps. But she hath not thy skill. How many languages art thou fluent in?'_ T'Pau inquired as they stepped into a lift.

'_I am currently fluent in 82% of the languages spoken within the Federation, along with the more prevalent of those spoken outside it, Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian and the like. In total some 108 distinct forms of communication. Several are dialects of the same root language however.'_ she replied.

'_That is impressive for one so young.'_ T'Pau remarked lightly.

'_I thank thee.'_

The elderly Vulcan did not make any move to leave the lift when it arrived at the small guarded foyer before Sarek's private residence_. 'I shall not see thee before thy departure with thy ship on the morrow. Peace and Long life to you granddaughter Nyota,'_ she inclined her head towards Spock_ ' – and to thee Spohkh.'_

Nyota lifted her hand in the ta'al. _'Live long and prosper honoured grandmother T'Pau.'_

Spock repeated the gesture and sentiment while Nyota retrieved the rose from the attendant that had been holding it. The lift doors closed and Nyota shot a confused glance at Spock at his grandmother's unexpected... 'visit'? His left eyebrow made a small movement. Apparently he was as mystified as she.

The guards triggered the doors to Sarek's Apartments.

Once inside Nyota put the pot plant down on the nearest flat surface. The little plant with its sweet smelling pink blooms looked incongruous, slightly ridiculous, surrounded by the severe formal Vulcan décor. Nyota smiled widely at Spock and took his hand, leading him towards their room. She felt his bemusement but complied.

She pressed herself against him even as the door slid shut behind them. 'Kiss me.' she demanded.

'Who am I to deny one clearly so favoured by the great T'Pau herself?' Spock replied with something very close to sarcasm.

'You are just jealous that your dear old nan likes me more than you.' she replied with a smug smile.

His eyebrow went skywards once more. '_Dear old nan_.' he repeated. 'Please be sure and refer to her as such when next I am present to observe her reaction.'

'Perhaps I shall.' she responded archly. 'And you _still_ haven't kissed me.'

'You have not stopped talk – '

Impatiently, Nyota cut him off, standing on her toes to press her lips against his. His arms wrapped around her automatically, pulling her firmly against the heat of his body as his mouth moved against hers. It was a languid kiss. A good kiss. Nyota enjoyed it very much.

'When will I have to leave here to make it to the _Enterprise _by 08:00 hours?' she inquired, pulling her lips a few centimetres from his.

'Assuming you utilise one of the shuttles here rather than travelling to Starfleet headquarters for a scheduled transport to Spacestation 1, 07:09 hours would provide you sufficient time.' as soon as he finished he attempted to kiss her again, but Nyota pulled back slightly.

'So how long until 07:09 hours?' she asked.

'15 hours 48 minutes 18 seconds.' he answered automatically before pressing his lips to hers again. This time Nyota returned the pressure for a few seconds before pulling away.

'How many times can you make love to me in 15 hours 48 minutes and whatever seconds?' she inquired almost seriously. Knowing him he'd probably calculate an answer automatically, before he had a chance to be scandalised by her brazenness.

'Zero if you do not stop interrupting me.' he replied.

Nyota laughed. 'Oh! So this is you making love to me?' she teased.

'On 92.3% of the occasions in which we have been alone and you have kissed me, we have consequently engaged in sexual intercourse.'

Both his tone and words amused her. 'Well, it would be illogical to argue with such figures.' she replied.

This time when he bent his head to kiss her she didn't pull away, she pulled him closer. Several minutes later she found herself flustered and out of breath upon the bed. Spock was in the process of removing his jacket. She assisted him, admiring the pleasing way the dark material contrasted with his beautiful pale, faintly greenish skin as she undid the fastenings. As she pushed the sleeves down past his elbows she sighed. 'I'm going to miss this uniform.' she observed mournfully.

Spock shot her a look that managed to communicate his disbelief that she would chose now to make such an observation with just the barest of movement of his left eyebrow.

'Don't look at me like that. You are perfectly aware that you look 'exceedingly aesthetically pleasing' in it.' she replied leaning forward and pressing kisses up his neck towards his ear.

'On the contrary, I had always thought it rather…' he paused as she found his earlobe with her mouth and bit it slightly. '… utilitarian in its appearance.' One of his warm hands was sliding firmly up her thigh and under her skirt, the other was nimbly undoing the fastenings on her own jacket.

'It's what you were wearing the first time I saw you. You looked so tall and _gorgeous._ I had to give myself an internal peptalk not to instantly fall in love with you.' Nyota said as Spock pushed her jacket down over her shoulders.

'Were you successful?' he inquired quite distractedly from where he was exploring the line of her neck with his usual fastidious attention to detail. The hand on her leg had curled its way up and around her backside, shoving her skirt up with it.

'Judging from the fact that I'm currently sitting in your lap lamenting the loss of your aesthetically superior instructor's uniform, I think I can give a resounding 'no' to that question.'

Nyota was quite pleased with herself, it was a remarkably coherent sentence for her considering Spock's usual effect upon her mental faculties. Spock pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin just below her earlobe and she shivered, felt her IQ drop a few points, didn't care.

'You do not find the active duty uniforms appealing?' he asked, his warm lips skimming her skin as he spoke.

Nyota shifted, wanting to be closer to him. 'They are… almost as appealing.' She leant her head to the side in encouragement and he kissed her neck again, lathing her skin with the heat of his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat, heat spreading from the point of contact throughout her body.

'I am gratified you will not suddenly find me unattractive.'

Nyota nodded vaguely, only half listening to his words. She dug her fingers into his hair and tugged him to face her so she could kiss him. The heat of his mouth and the press of his tongue against hers had her shifting, pushing herself up and closer to him. Suddenly his words sunk through her sluggish thoughts. She pulled her lips from his sharply. He made a tiny huffing noise of displeasure. Usually it would have delighted her.

'What do you mean?!'

He frowned. 'I am uncertain as to the context of the inquiry.' He was staring at her lips. Sensing his intent Nyota pressed her fingers to his mouth. Of course, to a Vulcan that was quite a suggestive gesture and Spock leaned forward and began kissing her fingers.

'When would you be wearing your active duty uniform?' she asked softly.

Spock stilled. His head tilted. 'Forgive me, I had intended to inform you earlier, however your _tel'esta_ and consequent demands I kiss you and make love to you for 15 hours 48 minutes and 17 seconds distracted me.'

'Tell me _what?'_ There was a buzzing in her ears. A feeling of hope that she tried to shove down in case she was mistaken, but he answered her…

'That I will not be resigning my commission.'

… and it overwhelmed her, a great wave of delight, joy, happiness. She gasped and tightened her hold upon him, staring at him in wide-eyed shock, her mouth stretching into a grin.

'Meld with me!' she demanded in the manner she had demanded his kisses earlier.

Spock raised an eyebrow but since he hardly considered it a _chore_ pressed his fingers obligingly to her psi points and joined their minds. He had once told her that melding with her could be like being hit with a hoverbus, that she could project her thoughts loudly and without restraint. She was certain that was precisely what she did to him the moment his mind pressed against hers.

She embraced him exuberantly, her thoughts rushing to meet his so he could feel the intense happiness that his simple declaration had evoked in her. She smiled and laughed in joy. Spock did not laugh, but she felt his shared happiness and his pleasure in her own _/giddy human delight/_ She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his smiling and laughing and _/so happy!/_

Spock turned his head, kissed her cheek, buried his face against her neck.

She didn't see it, but she felt his smile against her skin.

.

.

.

.

* * *

AN:

Aaaannnd we're done.

Thanks to Lamb's Ear for beta'ing the last few chapters. They ended up much better because of it.

Thank you also to everyone who reviewed the story when I first posted it. A lot of your comments have made this tweaked version a bit better I think. That being said, I'm washing my hands of this story. If you found my Spock OOC or whatever, I do not wanna hear it, go write your own version, I tried, it was _le hards_.

I'm finding writing the next one much more enjoyable! (In case anyone is curious it will resolve the T'Pring issue)


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